


Rise of the Blood Knight

by idigam



Series: Shattered Mirror [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Fluff and Angst, Galra Culture, Galra Empire, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra Politics, Galran Soldier Keith (Voltron), Gen, House Hazar, Just like my Red Blade series prepare for all the eighties references, Lots of Angst, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idigam/pseuds/idigam
Summary: Instead of the Blade of Marmora, Keith is taken in by his biological extended family. He has to learn quickly or he may not survive the intrigue and lineage obsession of House Hazar and the other High Houses.





	1. Childhood's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those who read my Exile fic control F: "the Pirate" if you don't want to reread Exile's start.

The last time Keith saw his mother he was three, she was looking at him fondly while she held him. She held him so close, and Keith remembers her scent most of all, “I’m going to need to leave you baby. I don’t know when I’ll be back, I need you to be brave for me kit, I need you to be brave for your daddy.”

  


Keith blinked sleepily up at her, “why?” She’s crying, Keith doesn’t understand, he wishes he could.

  


“So I can keep you and your dad safe.” She tried to tell him more but Keith doesn’t understand, it’s too much for him, and he’s too tired.

  


She’s gone by the next morning and his father is holding her knife to his chest, he’s been crying, he makes reaching motions towards his father. He picks up the small boy and puts him on his lap. “Momma’s keeping us safe,” Keith says it with the stern authority given to all three-year-olds who know something important.

  


His dad chokes a moment and smiles at him, “that’s right buddy,” he whispers.

****

  


  


That was two years ago, tonight his father is hiding him in the small dimly lit interior of the ship. He packs several things into the ship with him, a strange device he’d seen him speaking to beforehand, and some of his toys and clothes. “Hold on buddy, this is gonna get you to people who can help,” Keith reaches for him.

  


“Daddy, come with me,” he doesn’t get why his dad can’t come. His father’s crying again, it’s the first time since his mom left that he’s let Keith see him cry.

  


“Please, be brave, and be strong, I need to make sure they don’t get you.” There’s a loud bang from off in the distance, and someone is yelling. “Keith, I love you, I know your mom does too. Please, no matter what happens, no matter what you face, never forget that I will always be with you and I will always love you.” He kisses Keith’s forehead and forces his hands away from him by pressing his mother’s knife to his chest. The ship doors close, Keith screams for his father when they seal and he can feel the take off.

  


Somewhere far below him there’s a loud and deep rumble. Keith cries and clutches the knife as hard as he can to himself. He curls around it like it’s more precious than his life.

****

  


  


He doesn’t know how long he’s drifted through the stars, only the crushing loneliness and exhaustion that comes when terror fades. It’s not the only thing he feels, there’s another sensation, a deep crushing thing in his chest, the boy doesn’t have a name for it, it’s his first brush with despair.

****

 

 

The pirate Jivek considers the Galra craft the first bit of good luck he’s had in deca-phoebs. With a life sign no less, a power crystal, and a hostage.

 

Jivek, has always considered himself a creature with flare, one who knows how to make an entrance. “Alright my companions lets see what this meal ticket of ours has to offer.”

 

He saunters onstage in a billowing red coat, and orders his first mate to open the ship, his azure skin primed to perfection.

 

What they find surprises them, a bawling child, hairless and alien.

 

“Tch,” maybe not the meal ticket they had planned, “take it, maybe the Hazar slave markets will pay something for it.”

 

Going over the contents, it seems to have been an ark, what’s surprising is the video from a Galra, clearly one of House Hazar’s better stock.

 

Then his medical officer reports that the child manifested Galra traits when he attempted to brand it with a chip.

 

“Finish that process up, Liarza contact the Hazar Command, tell them I have a something they’ll want to see.”

****

 

 

Kvar enters his mistresses office, in name it belongs to her father but given his condition it is truly Dorma’s.

 

Saluting he waits her leave to speak, “what is it Kvar?”

 

“Your grace, we have just received a coded message from a privateer named Jivek he’s provided slaves for us before. He demands an audience.”

 

“Yes, I know him, he must have something special if he’s doing something so bold, open a closed channel.”

 

When Jivek’s face appears she coldly regards him.

 

“Your Grace! It has been too long! I have something you would be interested in.”

 

A video file of an alien child on a medical bed appears on her feed, “if this is a game Jivek you will regret it.”

 

“Patience my dear.” He gives a signal and the child is prodded with a Balmeran crystal shard, the quintessence infusing it causes him to scream before shifting into a form clearly one of her house.

 

“I’m sending you a video of his dear ol mum and dad, if you want this thing swept under the rug I suggest bringing fifty million GAC to our usual drop location, please and thank you.”

 

The message cuts out but not before an image of her daughter Krolia with the child in her arms appears. This half-breed creature is her grandkit.

 

“Kvar, assemble the Noi Clare sharpshooters we just acquired and make for Jivek’s rendezvous point,” she frowns at the image of her daughter.

 

“House Hazar leaves no debt unpaid.”

****

 

 

“Your Grace, we’ve reached coordinates, one varga early as per your instructions.”

 

“Good, remain in stealth mode, launch disrupter drones, and have the long range squadron ready themselves. We’re going in at the designated time, Kvar, to me.”

 

“Yes your Grace.”

****

 

 

“Ah Dorma so good of you to come, with my GAC I see.”

 

“Hand over the child Jivek the sooner you have your money the sooner we can be done.”

 

Jivek snaps his fingers, and produces the boy, he’s dirty and dressed in rags, half-breed or not he’s of the direct line, one she’s invested a great deal of personal wealth and pain into.

 

The old scars, given to her by the Druids and Drule fleshcrafters that purged her gametes of the Vorpal gene burn. She holds that pain, savors it, it’s the reason her children will never end up like her father or eventually her.

 

This child, as much as she sees the potential Krolia has wasted, will secure Hazar’s prosperity for another ten thousand years.

 

“Give me the boy Jivek.”

 

He hands him over as soon as Kvar puts down the money.

 

“Sir our communications just went out!”

 

Before he can react to the news Dorma brings her cane into his gut stunning him. She catches the child who begins crying again, his back and shoulders are burned where the quintessence was used to force his shifts.

 

She snaps her fingers and the sharpshooters rain death down on the pirates, a few blasts sear her robes, and the boy whimpers hiding his face in her shoulder.

 

“Look child,” he looks at her and her expression softens, then he looks for a moment at the charred bloody meat left of Jivek and his crew.

 

The boy gags and covers his mouth, “remember this day child, you are my grankit, I am your grandam, mother of your mother. You are of House Hazar, a powerful and noble line of Galra. Our word, and our honor is this, and this,” she points at the meat, “is the fate of those who oppose the Galra.”

 

She takes the boy back to her ship, Kvar falling in behind her.

 

“Blow this ship to atoms, leave nothing behind.”

 

_Krolia, my daughter what have you begot?_


	2. House Hazar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First taste of life in his new home.

The ship ride to the House Hazar fleet isn’t long, Dorma’s personal frigate being much better equipped than his father’s tiny shuttle.

 

He’s bathed and the personal doctor of his grandma saw to the wounds on his back. Now he’s dressed in a simple black shirt with red markings.

 

Dorma is slowly and idly grooming him, Keith sits completely still, unsure of this woman, she’s been kind, if distant to him, but she also killed an entire pirate crew in front of him.

 

So he sits, quiet and all too still in her lap. Still the act is soothing and slowly he begins to give a small purr in response. Dorma’s actions don’t seem to change at all but unknown to Keith she’s smiling softly.

 

After a few more moments the image display on the ship changes and reveals a massive wheel like structure floating in space. Enormous curving gothic towers mark the nexus points where the spokes of the wheel meet the inner and outer rings.

 

It floats above a nebula it seems to slowly draw from every so often.

 

“Welcome home child.”

****

 

 

The inside of the Imperial docking bay, reserved for the heads of state that run the Houses. A massive vaulted ceiling with some sort of glass to show the stars and the aurora from the nebula the House orbits meets the huge curve walls. Ornate columns separate the various docks some are occupied, most are not.

 

Before the massive doors into the House proper is a statue, a warrior clad in Imperial armor of a bygone era. “The first of our house, and your hallowed ancestor. You will learn in time, no matter what other forces may pollute your form, the blood of Hazar will overcome. It always has.”

 

 

The halls of the house are equally baroque, with dark violet light shining through the halls decorated with reliefs that show many ancient scenes, Dorma points to them when she notices Keith’s interest. “Those are the history of our House, from the time of Hazar the Uniter to the fall of Daibazaal and our place in the Inner Houses, you will learn these. You will be able to recite the histories from the inner sanctum to the five gates.”

 

Keith listens to her, but eventually it all proves too much and he falls asleep.

 

Dorma turns to her bodyguard, “Kvar, summon Thace here, I expect him to be here within the movement, accept no argument or any of his lip. I will take the kit to his room.”

****

 

 

Dorma places Keith gently on the bed, _you always have to leave me with the hard choices don’t you Krolia?_

 

She sighs, and turns from the boy’s sleeping form, and summons a sentry, “if the child wakes up see to his needs, I must consult with the Archduke.”

 

Her father’s chambers remain largely unchanged by the long passage of deca-phoebs, gone though is his large bed, gone is his desk, all that’s left are his tablets, carefully preserved and backed up. And the stasis pod that houses his withering form. Sleeping away time in some mad dream, like the figure of a fairy tale.

 

Dorma takes the small canister of quintessence and places it into the receptacle on the side of her father’s pod, then takes her place at the interface.

 

He father, High Commander and Archduke Yurak awakens, his face projected before her.

 

“Daughter, it is unlike you to awaken me. Have you finally come to your senses? To let me join the ancestors and take the mantle of Archduchess in name and duty?”

 

“I am afraid not sire, the House still needs your wisdom; I still need your wisdom, my daughter Krolia has left me a mess.”

 

She plays the video to Yurak, the one made by Krolia, “the kit, this Keith Yurak Kogane, indeed is of her blood. I do not know this Kolivan that the video is addressed to.” She has cut the part where her daughter confessed to treason against the Empire.

 

“Ah, a direct scion then!” Her father sounds pleased.

 

“You know our laws forbid a half-breed from inheriting the title.”

 

Yurak makes an exaggerated expression, “and you know my feelings on that law, the Prince himself is of half-blood, would you expect him to forgo the title should he have the strength to claim it?”

 

“May Zarkon reign for eternity, the Empire would tear itself apart before it would follow someone as idiosyncratic as Lotor.”

 

Yurak frowns deeply, “our House is a microcosm of the Empire, down to it’s faults, our line is poisoned, and only the painful sacrifice of yourself and forgiveness of both the Druidic order and Drule’s debts, a major weakening of the House, has given us a reprieve. Such a reprieve would have been much more cheaply bought with the allowance of one like this Keith, to obtain the full rank of Scion.”

 

Dorma lets out a breath trying to calm herself, “should I assume Krolia or did Thace inform you of my decision to purge the gene from our line?”

 

Only Yurak’s face is displayed but Dorma can’t help but get the sense he’s crossing his arms with disapproval, even such a memory brings a smile to her face.

 

“Until you decide to let me join our Honored Ancestors in lord Hazar’s court I am the head of this House and I do not need to divulge my personal meetings to anyone. Unless you want our talks to be open conversation topics.”

 

Dorma winces slightly, “forgive my impertinence father.”

 

Yurak’s expression softens, “Dorma, I understand the difficulty of your position, particularly now, what you will have to teach him, what you will require of him. The decisions you will have to force upon him whether or not you choose to name him scion,” he glares at her cutting off her response.

 

“It is a choice, Lotor is his father’s scion in spite of his blood, the laws can and have been rewritten. I understand that you would rather not see a civil war within our house. I can see your plans for the boy clear as starlight. However make no mistake whether or not you name him scion he is a threat to the machinations of your siblings and their children. You will need to prepare him for civil war because you cannot keep him hidden for long. If you must keep me in this limbo then I make only the demand that when he comes of age you let me speak to him.”

 

At that the quintessence runs it’s course and her father returns to his slumber, “yes father.”

****

 

 

The morning of the next quintant brings with it the first meal the boy has among his people. The sentry walks him in, “what are you doing?” She questions the machine icily.

 

“The boy disliked being alone, my instructions were to see to his needs, it seemed damaging to leave him unattended.”

 

Dorma gives the boy a hard look, “child I will indulge you for now, but you will need to walk on your own after today.”

 

Keith gives a nod but shrinks behind the sentry’s leg.

 

She turns to her medical files, “Kvar, I want you to begin stance training with him, based on the doctor’s findings he’s too young for full combat training but he will at least know to use the basics.”

 

“I am not to leave your side your Grace.”

 

She waves him off in annoyance, “yes, yes, I can at least get my work done from within the training grounds. At least until another of the Zuijin can be summoned to replace you as his instructor. Child, you must eat, you need to begin your lessons today and it would be dangerous without food.”

 

“Why?” his question is quiet.

 

“Food provides you energy, and I wont lie your lessons will be difficult.”

 

“Why do I need lessons?” _Of course he’s going to have Thace’s argumentative streak_ , Dorma rubs the growing headache from her temples.

 

“Because to have you walk around ignorantly,” Keith doesn’t quite know the word but the way his grandma spits it he knows he doesn’t want to be ignorant, ignorant sounds terrible, “would be much more dangerous.”

 

Keith just nods and eats the food, it’s good, and he is terribly hungry, but he doesn’t really taste it.

 

His grandma sighs, and grabs his hand, “not so fast you’ll make yourself sick. And like this, otherwise you’ll make a mess.”

 

And that’s how it goes, Dorma shows him how to eat, how to speak, his privileges are revoked if he gets it wrong. Usually he’s denied having a sentry walk him places, or forced to do extra work.

 

“In private I would prefer you call me grandam, but you must, address me as your Grace at all other times. Failure to do so will result in punishment.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because if you are exposed before you can defend yourself you will die. Right now the only way I can keep you safe is if I deny you. Punishment will hurt.”

 

Kvar shows him how to move without tripping, how to move silently, how to keep absolutely still. How to hide, he says hiding is the only real chance he has right now.

 

He learns some things from the servants too. They aren’t Galra, the cook and handmaid, they are owned by Hazar, Keith briefly remembers being taught that slavery is wrong, but his grandam told him not to be foolish when he said that.

 

He learned that foolish is the same as ignorant, and that both are bad.

 

Still, he likes the slaves, he doesn’t need to look like a Galra with them. There are only two, a multi armed cook named Keir, and his grandam’s handmaiden a pretty woman named Rylla with long tendrils instead of hair.

 

His grandam said that only these two and their courier a Galra named Gurre can be trusted, that the others would tell his cousins about him and his cousins would try to kill him. So they had to be banished from the inner sanctum.

 

The days are long and begin to blur together.

 

He creeps along the walls, moving silently and hiding in an alcove that houses a statue of one of the honored dead of his house.

 

His grandmother taught him that their house is protected by their ancestors, that Hazar the Uniter is first among them. That our job is to become great so that when we die we can help him keep our house safe and strong forever.

 

She taught him about the Ancestors of the Void, the five who are the Ancestors of everything, and you must never call them in vain, because to do so is an insult to them who must work to protect them all.

 

He can hear his grandam’s voice, she’s yelling at someone, she sounds even madder than she did the time he almost tripped her.

 

“What part of be here at the end of the movement did you not understand?”

 

There’s a big man standing at the doors to the inner sanctum, Keith’s never seen him before, he looks like a sad kid with his ears back and grandam Dorma yelling at him. He’s taller than her broader, but he might be one of Keith’s family, the ones who want to kill him.

 

_Grandam asked for him though and she wouldn’t do that if he wanted to hurt me right?_

 

“C’mon mom, it’s only been a quintant past the movement. I couldn’t get out of the system before now, and it’s not like _you_ asked it was Kvar that sent me the message.”

 

She grabs his ear and Keith has to cover his mouth to keep from snickering, his grandam is super mad.

  
“Idiot boy, I ask you here because it is important, more important than chasing trousers and skirts. In case you think I don’t know what you get up to you public embarrassment.”

 

Then a shadow falls over his hiding spot and Kvar frowns down at him, he shrinks back, “how long?” The giant horned Galra asks.

 

“Only a few doboshes” he replies nervous.

 

Kvar nods, “you’re getting better” he scoops Keith up and brings him over to his grandam.

 

“Ma’am, it would seem that curiosity claimed the kit” he says fondly.

 

Dorma sighs in exasperation, “I had hoped this would go smoother but kits no matter how old,” she glares at the man, “ruin the best laid plans.”

 

“Keith this is you uncle Thace, he will be helping you when I cannot.”


	3. Thace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter tonight, just a lil history and Thace being a good dude, starts out with a game of pass the Kit though.

“UNCLE?!” Thace stares at the boy in question who doesn’t even look Galra, though the bangs do look a bit like Krolia’s, and with Dorma stroking his hair there is a certain resemblance. The cub wriggles out of Kvar’s arms and drops to the floor when he hits the ground he’s left looking purple and very much like his mother.

 

“Ancestors fuck me,” Dorma smacks him in the leg with her cane and the cub looks up at him.

 

“Uncle Thace said a bad word about the Ancestors!” His voice has the distinct whine of a tattle.

 

“Don’t follow his example cub,” Dorma glares at her son.

 

“Ugh you already got your claws in him.”

 

Thace bends down and picks the boy up, “I’m guessing this is why I’ve been hearing Emara and the others whining about you banishing all but four retainers and having the sentries wiped every other quintant?”

 

Dorma sighs, “already there are rumors, this is why I wanted you here earlier.”

 

“You wanted me to claim him didn’t you? Notorious party boy getting labeled a debauched wouldn’t be as embarrassing as the party boy son and debauched daughter.”

 

“I want you to keep him out of sight!” Dorma roars and the cub hides his face and makes a low whine of distress that has Thace curling protectively around him.

 

“If Emara or any of your other cousins learn of him he wont survive the phoeb.”

 

Thace soothes his nephew by slowly petting his hair.

 

“To say nothing of how the child came to be Krolia is not welcome in this House, the video that was relayed to me suggested that she has committed treason. I do not know if that is known to Central Command Intelligence but the simple fact is; It does not matter. She has done too much to this House to be welcome here.”

 

Thace sucks in a breath, “you’re naming me a full scion aren’t you?”

 

“You will need to set not only a good example for him, but I need you in Central when you aren’t here.”

 

“Mom, that’s crazy!”

 

“No, crazy would be letting you continue your lifestyle and leave me to deal with this,” she takes the cub and hands him to Kvar.

 

“Take Keith to his physical lessons, I’ll be along for history.”

 

Kvar frowns, “his Zuijin is here, I will be back within thirty ticks.”

 

“He survives until he’s old enough for arrangements to be made with one of the Lower Houses, or a binding agreement with one of the High Houses.”

 

Thace balks, “he’s a kitling!”

 

She stares at him hard, “he wont remain a kitling forever, the only safety guarantee he has is to produce an heir with a full blooded Galra. If he’s bound to one of the other Houses then any attempt on his life would be considered a declaration of war between the person responsible and the House in question. Zarkon would intervene then.”

 

“I think you overestimate Zarkon’s ability to care about the Empire much less it’s houses. Convenient that Hazar, as the stronger House would absorb any lands and titles given to his child. Mother, this is cruel, keeping him just to use him as a political bargaining tool.”

 

“What would you suggest? Let your cousins declare open season on him? Or maybe I should unhouse him and wash my hands of the whole affair?”

 

“Declare him-”

 

“You know the laws, that would only make things worse, sure the others wouldn’t be able to act openly but they would act immediately, to say nothing of those who would be disgusted by a half-breed being given inheritance.”

 

For the first time in almost three hundred years, his mother actually looks old, and very tired. “I have done everything I can think of, made every arrangement I can in the immediate. I even consulted your grandsire about this.”

 

Thace’s eyebrows climb, “and?”

 

“I will have him trained, with luck, and skill, he will be able to enter the service, if I can make the full arrangements I desire then he can be given a position in the military, a chance to distinguish himself. This will give him the best chance at being more than a ‘political bargaining tool.’”

 

Thace sighs, “I’ll do what I can, I make no promises, but you know he needs more than that to survive, he’ll need his own pride. That’s not something this House can truly offer.”

****

 

 

Kvar puts Keith down in front of a younger Galra with light purple fur and blue highlights, “this is your Zuijin child, Rai, she will be with you until you come of age, she will return to your service once your six deca-phoebs of service to the crown are ended.”

 

She bends down and waves at him, “hello kitling, Kvar says he wants you to know how to defend yourself, would you like me to help you learn?”

 

Keith walks over to her, looking at Kvar once, he nods, “I must return to your grandam’s side.”

 

Keith and Rai walk into the training hall.

****

 

 

Keith collapses into his bed panting and bruised, he was cleaned and put to bed, the sentry attending him wasn’t the sentry he’s normally with which upset him.

 

There’s a knock at his door and he sits up.

 

Thace enters his room and looks around, “sparse set up you have.”

 

Keith eyes him warily, “I’m not here to mess with you kid.”

 

“Her Grace was mad at you.”

 

Thace makes a face, and Keith’s ears flatten in shame, “apologies sir.”

 

“Nothing to apologize for buddy, I’m just not happy that she has you calling her ‘her Grace.’”

 

“If I don’t I’ll get hurt.”

 

Thace sits on the bed next to him and pulls him into a hug purring and grooming the boy.

 

“No, I’ll be here, for a while at least, and I wont let anyone hurt you kit.”

 

“You wont be here forever.”

 

“No, I wont.”

 

“That’s why I need to be stronger.”

 

Thace holds his nephew, his mind is already making itself up about what he has to do. The only way his nephew’s going to get a good life, a life outside the plans of his ‘betters.’ Is for the Empire to change, “your mama really has me whipped bud, let me tell you.”

 

Then Thace smiles at him with mischief, “I’m pretty sure your grandam kept some of Krolia and my toys from when we were growing up. Lets say we go find something to make your room more fun.”

 

Kit looks at him dubiously, “wow, I’m going to have to show you how to have fun to aren’t I?”  
  
_How does mom do this much damage in a quiznacking movement?_

****

 

 

“Here we go!” Thace pulls out a large box.

 

Keith looks dubious.

 

Thace empties the box, tiny sentries, “they’re a little old but with a bit of work I bet I can get them up and running. Probably get some games and puzzles on a tablet for you too.”

 

Keith moves a couple of their arms, “if your grandam asks, just tell her it’s strategy and flexible thinking practice.”

 

“Who’s Hazar? Her Gra- er, grandam said he was the first of our House.”

 

Of the responses he was expecting that was not one of them, still Thace shrugs, no harm for the kid to know his Guardian Ancestor. “Hazar was a warrior during the time of strife. After the fall of the fourteenth Emperor of the Galra there was a race for the Kral Zera. The High Houses hadn’t yet been formed. Hazar united four disparate fleets under the banner of then Countess Vajra. His leadership, tactics, and unorthodox methods along with her strength of will allowed the Vajra to become the fifteenth Empress. Vajra the Stalwart, Hazar came to be known as the Uniter, not just for bringing the fleets, and petty warlords to heel, but because the aid he brought to Vajra’s coronation wasn’t just Galra, he had made alliances with five other space faring species. The treaties of alliance he made, strengthened by the wisdom and power of the Empress, allowed the Galra an age of unprecedented prosperity.”

 

Keith looks up at his uncle with wide eyes, “so, there are non-Galra that helped us?”

 

“Yes kitten, if you would like I could get some of the histories from my grandsire’s study to read to you?”

 

Keith nods emphatically.

 

Thace picks him up and carries him back to his room.


	4. Dorma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's years of learning and growing.

Dorma shudders as the face appears on screen, the feelings of distaste overcoming her for a moment. The figure does not react, they never do. She suspects that the masks may be to hide their emotions, but it might also be that they simply don’t have any emotions to hide.

 

“I am willing to provide funding, and balmera crystals, for your latest project, in exchange for private lessons for one of my House, these will be kept discreet.”

 

The figure cocks it’s head to the side, it’s an almost avian gesture.

 

“Unless you want to go through the quarter master to get your materials.”

 

“We did not say that we would not accept your terms. We simply wish to assess this one’s motives.”

 

“I am trying to keep a grandkit I was until recently unaware of alive. There are other reasons but for the time being that is the relevant one.”

 

“We accept your terms, we shall come.”

 

Dorma suppresses a second shudder at the thought of one of the Druids in her home for an extended period of time.

 

She looks out over the training arena, four deca-phoebs and Keith has become capable, and based on some of what he’s said, and how he’s acted, she’s starting to suspect he can sense quintessence fields.

 

Unfortunately only one of the Druidic Order could tell for certain.

 

The rest of the House is aware of his existence. Two bombs were sent as “gifts,” and one assassin was killed trying to infiltrate the House.

 

The order of Zuijin has since explicitly stated that due to conflict of interest they would only hold existing contracts, not open new ones. Which means that she doesn’t need to be concerned about the Order sending an assassin. Though Emara likely contacted them about it.

 

The cub has become more patient, and is capable of remaining still at her side for vargas during his lessons on etiquette.

 

He notices her watching and smiles wide waving up at her. She smiles fondly and waves back.

  
He’s shaping up to be a Galra ideal.

 

Possibly due to how little interaction he’s had with others he’s bonded to her heavily. Thace is still clearly his favorite, her son indulges him, but it’s good he’s allowed some measure of enjoyment in his youth.

 

Already contracts have come pouring in, requesting arranging a marriage. Not only does Keith offer an opportunity to gain access to Hazar resources for other Houses but his genetics would ensure a strong heir.

 

She has to go through them, if he passes his exams and his six deca-phoebs of service to the crown then he will be able to make the choice himself. It’s a limited freedom, Thace likely wouldn’t even call it such, but it’s what she can offer.

****

 

 

The next movement the tutor arrives, Keith standing at attention, when the Druid exits its craft he stiffens. Dorma can feel him trying not to run and hide behind her.

 

“This one is our charge yes?” The voice is quiet, muffled by the mask.

 

“Yes, and you are?” Dorma is all business.

 

“We are Samael, seventh of the order. We have accepted your terms, and will impart knowledge. Should the High Priestess demand, we will depart.”

 

“I do not expect your duties to my House supersede your duties to the Empire.” She places emphasis on Empire, since she knows who they really serve and will make her disapproval known.

 

The Druid tilts it’s head to the side, but says nothing.

 

It approaches Keith and examines him, the kit’s fur bristles and his ears flatten he shrinks back and bares his teeth. It’s a testament to his will that he hasn’t technically left attention.

 

“Why does this one shrink from us?”

 

Dorma nods, Keith answers, “you feel wrong, everything about you feels wrong, poisoned.”

 

Samael turns its gaze on Dorma, “this one can sense our quintessence, this was one of the reasons we were summoned.”

 

Dorma nods again, “yes, his senses are acute, even compared to my children.”

 

“We are intrigued, is the father species perceptive we wonder?”

 

“Whether or not that is the case is of no concern to you, you are to be his tutor, if you want to sate your curiosity find another.”

 

“It’s of no concern, we would need a full blooded of his species to know for certain.”

 

It holds out it’s hand and Keith swallows before taking it. Shuddering with revulsion as he does so.

 

“We shall show this one how to hone its senses, it shall be a perfect hunter when we are through.”

 

Dorma nods and leaves her grandkit in the care of his Zuijin, unlikely that the Druid would care about his well being.

****

 

 

“This one shall first learn to open its senses to the quintessence. It shall be tested regularly. We shall begin simple.”

 

The beginning was simple, based mostly on being able to sense where the quintessence was coming from.

 

Over the movements and phoebs however training got more intense, Keith was expected to tell the difference between quintessence fields. To seek them out, if he selected the wrong he’d be shocked by the Druid’s lightening.

 

Another time he had to dodge said lightening. Blinded he was to do so by sensing what direction it was coming from. Another was to navigate a vertical maze by sensing what segments of the floor were being moved by the Druid’s sorcery.

 

These trials were much more difficult, Keith often needs to be treated with quintessence and still comes back with minor burns and bruises.

****

 

 

“Why do I have to do this training?” Keith asks once while his uncle bandages him up.

  
“I don’t know kiddo, if it were up to me you’d never see a Druid.”

 

“Should I ask grandam?”

 

Thace winces, “I don’t know, this is one of those things she probably hates but feels is necessary.”

 

“Like my marriage right?”

 

“Ugh, of course she’d tell you about that.”

 

“One of my cousins tried to kill me again today.”

 

Thae looks alarmed but hides it quickly, “how’d that go?”

 

“They used a resistance fighter according to the sentries,” Keith gets this cold and distant smile that Thace can’t help but find genuinely terrifying. “Samael doesn’t like being interrupted, they had to call in a fleet of cleaning drones to pick up the mess.”

 

Thace swallows back his bile, “I see.”

****

 

 

“Grandam?” Keith’s voice is quiet and he waits at attention for a response as is protocol.

 

“Yes cub? What do you need?”

 

“I was wondering if I may ask you a question?”

 

“That depends kit, who was the head of our House during the thirtieth Emperor?”

 

“Trick question, Empress Lashiir became the head of our House when she married and mated Malcoth who had been head up until that time. It was the third joining of House Daibazaal and our own.”

 

Dorma smiles, “technically it was the fifth but a good answer, what may I help you with kit?”

 

“Why do I train with the Druid?”

 

Dorma sighs, “to hone your ability to sense quintessence, it is an ability that is unique to your parents, though you seem to have a heightened form of it. It’s a skill we would like to cultivate.”

 

“Should I cultivate it I would be more of an asset?”

 

“Yes, it would give you an edge with which to rise through the ranks of the military. If my plans for your posting are successful, and there’s a good chance they will be. You will have to compete with others with unique abilities.”

 

“Ah, I see, and it would be considered proper for me to be allowed to choose and negotiate my own marriage contract then correct?”

 

Dorma raises an eyebrow, “ has your uncle been confiding in you again?”

 

“Partially, your own lessons on inter-House interaction and Samael’s lessons on the subject of central’s politics allowed me to infer.”

 

“Clever boy. Your uncle wants you to begin flight training in a fighter at the end of the movement. Do you think you’re ready?”

 

“Yes, though I am unsure taking into account my sensory training, Samael wants to test my ability as a scrying conduit once I’m accustomed to piloting.”

 

“Are you ready for that?”

 

“Not yet, I will be.”

 

“Then it shouldn’t be an issue.” She smiles at him, “now come here, I haven’t gotten a chance to groom you in two quintants.”

 

Keith rolls his eyes but smiles, breaks his attention, and moves to his grandam’s lap.

 

“Do not echo your uncle in this child, you will soon be too big for me to do this. Indulge your old grandam just this once.”

 

“You aren’t old grandam, you’re distinguished.”

 

“Silver tongued little flatterer.”

****

 

 

Keith feels freedom for the first time in so long, it’s amazing to feel the controls, but he doesn’t revel in it. He can’t, he can feel the fire in his veins, the thing he’s felt all his life, that connection is deeper thanks to the Druid’s lessons.

 

Instead he focuses the flame, he does not revel, he does not whoop, or give undiluted expressions of joy. He instead focuses it like a plasma cutter, he moves through complex motions and maneuvers quickly, coldly, efficiently.

****

 

 

Three phoebs into training he’s given dummy fighters and mock battles to fight against.

 

At a deca-phoeb they are giving him live fire training.

 

During his second live fire training something goes wrong. One of the sentries was sabotaged by his cousins. Or possibly a great aunt or uncle.

 

It fires on him taking out his aft wing, sensing something wrong he dodges just in time, the fighter chases him with single minded tenacity. A second sabotaged sentry takes out his weapons. He turns sharply, then enters a sharp dive causing the two to crash into each other.

****

 

 

“This one did well, it’s assassins became fodder for it’s own wealth of knowledge, we shall continue this one’s training now.”

 

Keith nods, “What must I do teacher?”

 

Samael pulls up a hologram, “somewhere in this system is a resistance fighter we introduced it to irradiated balmera crystal dust. Familiarize with the sense of it, it will lead us to that one’s camp. If successful, a resistance base will fall and lord Zarkon will deliver a reward to Hazar.”

 

“Yes teacher, what must I do?”

 

“Learn the aura, the essence of the quintessence, and the fighter, then track it. We will feed you with quintessence to fuel the search.”

 

Keith is lead to a glowing pool of energy, or maybe it’s more balmera dust in water. He kneels in the middle, “is this one ready?”

 

Keith nods, then he feels it; the dark energy of the Druid permeating his body, at first it feels like oil across his skin. Slowly he surrenders to it, as he was taught to do, feeling the jagged energy of his teacher drag like fish-hooks across his being. The sound of a dozen people screaming in unison gnashing their teeth in anguish and rage consumed by their darkest being. Opening to the aura he wants to find using that dreadful energy, somewhere distantly he can feel a roar of anger and hatred.

 

He tries to shut it out, searching through worlds, asteroids, the images flooding through him around him. He can feel it, it hurts though, the pain is unimaginable.

 

Blood drips from Keith’s nose into the pool, he can’t keep it up.

 

“This one has failed no, to continue risks damage.”

 

The roar gets louder, angrier, and Keith is inspired by it, it whispers to him how to accomplish his task.

 

“No, giv-give me more time, just a tick.”

 

His teacher cocks it’s head but does give in to his request, when Keith feels the energy course through him he pretends to surrender to it, then he gives it up to the roar. Which transforms from an external shout of offense to an internal roar of flame, a pyre burning the tainted energy of the druid from his being. The energy flows outward enveloping him in a burning aura the pool erupts into steam.

 

“Second moon of the first gas giant, there is a base containing the life energy of twenty resistance fighters. There is also a secondary base hidden in the asteroid field, three life signs, an advance listening post.” From his throat two voices shout, one his own the other deeper and feminine.

 

Samael cuts off the quintessence, “We were unaware of the second outpost, this one has surpassed expectations, we are impressed.”

 

Keith is given a front row seat, seventeen resistance fighters are dead, six, including the listening outpost, are captured and Samael promises to personally see to their interrogation. He expects he should feel proud, that he has done the Empire and his House a service, he only feels exhaustion and pain from the ritual.

****

 

 

Keith makes his way to his room with Rai following close behind him. “Excellent work out there today kitten, you’ve earned your rest. I will tell her Grace that you will be remaining in your room this evening. I’ll bring food later.”

 

“Thank you,” Keith smiles wearily.

****

 

 

“It surpassed all expectation, we shall include our recommendation to Zarkon, High Priestess Haggar, and to whomever you send him for his time on the front.”

 

The Druid’s voice is as much a dry dead whisper as ever but there’s something there, almost like astonishment.

 

Dorma nods, “House Hazar thanks you for your tutelage and, as is custom, invites you to his coming of age ceremony.”

 

The Druid nods, “should we not be recalled it would delight us.”

 

Dorma smiles tightly having hoped the creature would refuse.

****

 

 

Later that evening Dorma enters Keith’s room with a tray of food, Keith is surprised to see her and balks. “Grandam that’s the sentries’ job!”

 

She smiles and waves him off, “no, not when I am proud of you, Rai, Thace, and Samael have all given you glowing recommendations, you shall have your coming of age ceremony. It shall be a grand affair, when it is over I have a surprise for you.”

 

Keith’s eye light up, “my posting? You haven’t even given me a hint as to where I’ll be sent!”

 

Dorma smiles and makes a motion like she’s zipping her lips, “not until the ceremony, let your grandam have her fun.”

 

“You got the one you were pushing for didn’t you?” Keith is practically bouncing, all weariness forgotten.

 

“Indeed child, now, hurry and eat. We have a ceremony to prepare for,” her face becomes serious then, “the entire House will be present. It’s tradition that they be here, it is also tradition that they make no violence or trouble.”

 

Keith thinks for a moment, “they already violated law and tradition, they allowed enemies of the Empire into one of the core ships.”

 

Dorma nods, “yes, I am worried.”

 

Keith kisses her cheek, “don’t worry grandam if any of them try anything I’ll cut them down. If they’re purebred then I will give them to the sentries. They may act as though their honor is cheaply bought and sold, but I will still triumph, and I shall do so with my worth intact.”


	5. Yurak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of Keith's Coming of Age Ceremony, and all the joys and threats that come from the first assembly of House Hazar Keith has to deal with.

The phoebs leading up to Keith’s coming of age ceremony are busy. Thace visits from Central Command where he’s been serving under Commander Prorok for much of it. He’s helping Keith evaluate the plans of the various fighters used by the empire as part of his flight and engineering training.

 

“I like the armor on bombers and advance scouts but I gotta say the interceptors are my favorites. They have excellent firepower and maneuverability.”

 

“Their armor’s much lower, they can’t take a punch.” Thace frowns clearly concerned for his nephew’s safety.

 

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t get hit, that said there are some issues I have with the Imperial designs.”

 

“Oh?”

“The design is really rigid, the entire ship has to turn dip or spin to avoid getting hit. During the lessons on alchemically enhanced tech I pointed it out to Samael and it said that’s one of the reasons the Voltron Lions are so powerful, because their maneuverability mimics that of a living organism.”

 

“Well too many moving parts would make it more likely to break or fail.”

 

“Sure if they aren’t maintained, also some of that could be mitigated or even improved if you make it an alchemic device. Like using gravity generators instead of traditional thrusters.”

 

“That would be exceedingly expensive.”

 

“Well it’s not like we’re actually making this, though I bet the Druids would still do it just to prove they could.”

****

 

 

Dorma and Keith have managed to drive the sentries to near self destruction with their micromanaging. “No it can’t be completely symmetrical, and I need to know where all the ceremonial blades are.”

 

“This is a show of power as much as an event.”

 

“The family needs to be kept off balance while I show that this is my domain and they are here at my sufferance.”

 

“Make sure the lighting is kept dim but not dark, if I need full lighting then it says I’m not as capable as a full blood, too little and it says I’m a coward who needs to hide in the dark.”

 

“I said red, yes Imperial purple and black are going to be part of the scheme but red is going to be _MY_ defining color and they’ll know it.”

 

“Ugh, this is a disaster, if you want my cousins to kill me before the end of the deca-phoeb then yes we can go with this.”

 

By the end he’s sparring against Rai particularly viciously.

 

“Something’s wrong.”

 

“This event is my one chance to impress the family into silence.”

 

“Most will never be silent, those that are will be your most dangerous foes. You are of half-blood they will not see you as anything else.”

 

“I know, but I can at least teach them to fear me.”

 

“Galra are not trained to fear xenos, and that’s the problem, you will always be seen by your ‘inferior’ half. To say nothing of your age.”

 

“I’m thirteen! I’m old enough to enter my compulsory six years.”

 

“You age rapidly, or appear to, you could easily begin to slow down as your body finishes it’s development.”

 

“I would not find fault with a couple centuries in peak fitness.”

 

“Nor should you.”

 

Rai swipes Keith’s legs from under him and pins him with a teasing smile.

 

“Your family will see you as they will, what I am concerned with is how you see yourself.”

****

 

 

Finally the date arrives, Samael and Thace arrive first, with a quiznacking prototype interceptor, not quite to the specs of Keith’s design but the nearest physical approximation. A beak-like central cockpit that lowers and raises the pilot into it. It stands on four leg like structures that are clearly designed to rotate.

 

“QUIZNACK! Is that full 360 wing maneuverability?!”

 

“It’s more than that kit, it’s also got a surprise, a small ion cannon. It can only fire once then it needs to recharge which will take a varga but if you make that shot count you could rip a hole even in a dreadnought.”

 

Keith lets out a low whistle, “how much quintessence is required to operate it?”

 

“Not actually that much, quintessence starts the reaction but it’s actually designed to let physics do most of the work. It’s surprisingly efficient.”

 

“It would be foolish of us to allow any such design to be flawed. With small alterations these could be mass produced within the next ten deca-phoebs.” The quiet hiss of the Druid’s voice cuts through the conversation.

 

Thace coughs, “uh right, so wanna take it for a test flight?”

 

Keith doesn’t hesitate or look away from the fighter, “yes.”

****

 

 

“There’s an approaching frigate, Hazar ID, clearly of Count rank or higher, which one?” Keith asks weaving through the House dreadnought towers.

 

“Looks like your great uncle Ylvek,” his uncle’s voice comes through on the radio.

 

“The one with a fondness for toy-bombs?”

 

“Yeah, he and his daughter probably collaborated on that resistance fighter that snuck into the House too.”

 

“Aight then.”

 

“Keith what are you.”

 

Keith buzzes the frigate, using the crafts superior movement to move almost faster than can be seen from point to point tagging the critical systems of the frigate with an isotope. Then over the general hailing frequency his voice can be heard. “Great Uncle, I learned a lot about preparedness from your lessons, a pity you didn’t do the same, you just exploded at least twice. One of those wiped out your escape pod bay.”

 

Thace pales under his fur, a feeling deep anxiety that is very much not helped by a hiss that sounds like steam escaping from a rusty pipe coming from next to him. He looks at the Druid, “wait, are you laughing?”

 

The sound cuts off and the Druid simply turns and leaves.

 

Thace is left very uncomfortable and wondering how his nephew managed to survive deca-phoebs training one on one with that thing.

 

“Ancestors no wonder the cub’s completely insane.”

 

Keith cackles while he circles the ship again, in a closed message to Thace he says, “c’mon uncle Thace, once they dock I’m bound by the laws of hospitality, until then they can deal with the fact that Ylvek declared war on me for the last like eight deca-phoebs.”

 

Dorma walks in for it and chuckles quietly, before Thace can send a response she opens a channel. “Alright kitten you made your point now it’s time to stop tormenting my baby brother, no matter how much he deserves it and come inside.”

 

“Aye grandam, coming in docking bay three.”

 

Thace eyes his mother warily, “I don’t know what’s scarier the cub or the fact that he listens to you.”

 

“Ha!” Dorma gives a dry laugh, “to the letter he does, which means if there’s any room for interpretation he will exploit it for all it’s worth. Trust me son, your cousins, aunts, and uncles are not ready for him, especially if they’re still thinking in terms of blood purity.”

****

 

 

“Grankit, I have something for you, a promise I made to my father.” She takes Keith’s hand once he’s out of his pilots uniform and in his formal wear.

 

She leads him trough the twisting labyrinth of the Inner Sanctum, a labyrinth that Keith knows by heart, he knows where they’re headed is a hallway that’s been forbidden to him. After his punishment when he was caught trying to sneak into it the first time he never tried again. Dorma enters a password and a retinal scan. She’s holding a small canister of quintessence.

 

The room is small, and dusty, there’s a shelf of tablets and a single stasis pod in the far wall. His grandam walks over to it and plugs the quintessence canister into a slot on the side of the pod. She turns hugs Keith and kisses the top of his head, “this is between you two.”

 

With that he’s left alone in the room, well not entirely, he’s about to leave when a sudden voice makes him jump. “So she kept her promise, I’m glad, I also get to meet my great grandson, my first one too! Congrats kit you’re the eldest which means your priority.”

 

Keith laughs, “tell that to Ylvek and Emara, not to mention the others who’ve been stewing in their juices for the last eight deca-phoebs.”

 

“Bah, that’s just because you’re not full blooded, which those idiots would realize is probably the House’s only real hope for a stable gene-pool. I suppose they’d have to get their faces out of Zarkon’s rear for that to happen though.”

 

Keith pales, “what?! You’re the Archduke, head of our House, how, why? That’s, well, probably not treason, but something close.”

 

“Kit, I’ve been waiting to join the Ancestors for, what deca-phoeb is it?”

 

“Approaching the deca-millennial of the fall of Altea.”

 

“Ancestors, she’s kept me here for a full hundred deca-phoebs, well hurray for me I guess, there’s a chance I’ll outlive you. Kit, promise me something, when the syndrome takes your grandam, let her go, this is no life.”

 

Keith hugs himself suddenly feeling very cold, “I don’t think that’ll ever be my call.”

 

“I’ll name you my successor.”

 

Keith frowns, “grandam will overturn that the minute your dead or comatose again.”

 

“True, but we have limited time and I did call you here for a reason.”

 

Keith looks at him dubiously, “right, I mean, other than insulting my extended family, which hey go nuts they keep trying to kill me.”

 

His great grandsire growls, “of course they have, the petty creatures. Kit, I want you to have my tablets, there’s a cipher to them. I think you’re the first of our family since your mother to appreciate what’s on them. If you can decode it that is.”

 

“Not just gonna hand it to me?”

 

“As much as I disdain most of what the Empire has become, that’s not the Galra way. You get what you earn through strength, skill, and cunning. Oh, and kit.”

 

Keith tenses, catching a brief shine in the surface of the pod, “yeah?”

 

“Don’t die here, that’d be embarrassing.”

 

Keith rolls out of the way of the assassin’s sword.


	6. Coming of Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel like leaving y'all twisting in the wind for too long.

Keith rolls out of the way of the blade then runs out of the room, tailed by the assassin, ducking across to the corridor and down a ventilation shaft. He ends up in the banquet hall, he grabs a plate of food and utensils blending in with his family.

 

“Ah, so the creature in question deigns to join us.” An older Galra with a cruel expression he’s not as tall as his grandam, and he seems to be trying for regal but it just comes off as ostentatious.

 

“Apologies sir, but the head of our House required my presence.”

 

“Dorma has been here all evening. Don’t lie to use you insignificant-”

 

“Her Grace is acting head of our House, but lord Yurak is our house Head still. That is who, by his request evidently, I was meeting.”

 

The other Galra stiffens in rage, “you expect me to believe.”

 

“Ha ha ha ha,” a grizzled and scarred Galra with most of one ear missing cuts in, “you must really be fishing for something to whine about since you got buzzed in that fly-by Ylvek, because that’s the exact type of thing dad would do.”

 

_Ylvek, ah so this is great uncle Ylvek._

 

“Heya kit, this is a great party, my lil sis must really like you. She’s notoriously stingy with the purse strings.”

 

Keith looks up at him, “my apologies my lord I have not managed to make proper introductions yet.”

 

“Ugh, yeah, your Dorma’s boy alright, please, none of that ‘my lord,’ or ‘sir stuff’ I’m not a landed noble, I’m a general, General Cossack.”

 

“I apologize if this is impertinent, but, if Dorma is younger than you should you not be acting head?”

 

Cossack laughs loud and long, “Ancestors no kit! Even if I weren’t the black sheep slacker of the family, I would never want to be in the position of being a Scion. No I’m good with being some fringe field agent, not on a frontier posting, not stuck with the responsibility of a Commander position. Or that close to the Emperor and his witch,” he shudders, “between us those two creep me out bud.”

 

Keith almost smiles, this great uncle is much more inviting, but he reminds himself that this could be a trap. “Of course, uh,” he’s going to test his limits here, “grunkle Cossack.”

 

Cossack’s eyes go wide, and his face looks stunned for a moment, then he smiles broadly, “oh kit, you have a solid mean streak. I can’t tell if that’s my sister or my nephew in this one, or maybe my niece? You are hers after all,” he says with a wink.

  
Then he leans in to Keith and stage whispers, “I will give you as much allowance as I can if you call Ylvek that next time I’m in earshot.”

****

 

 

Keith makes his rounds and continues the meet and greet, he’s identified five notable threats, Ylvek being the most obvious. Then there’s Jezal, though her threat is through information she introduced herself as a cousin, one of Cossack’s and then gave her condolences to Keith for his mother’s reassignment.

 

Vrok an obvious threat in both military prowess and manipulation, he refused to acknowledge Keith during the introduction having them made through a half-Galra attendent.

 

Liel, another more secretive threat than any of the others, the child of a deceased great aunt, and a vicious master of subterfuge hiding both a plain lie regarding Keith’s heritage and a more subtle lie about proper conduct.

 

Finally Emara who’s presence has been felt but she is clearly holding back from the crowd not having greeted him yet. She’s allowing her reputation to do the talking.

 

It’s an intimidation tactic, one Keith ignores, pretending he’s clearly met everyone worth meeting. _This is a test of wills if you give she wins, she breaks and comes to you then you’re the victor._

 

Each of these is a declaration as per Galra traditions of honor, they are displaying both their weapons and intent.

 

There are other less present threats, Fiora who’s chief weapon is court conduct, Dresh he uses finance more than anything, both offering a bribe and extortion as per Hazar tradition based around debt. Zweil who is an oddity, he’s hostile that much is certain, but he offers a chance of alliance he’s honorable almost to a fault. Fiora, Jezal, Dresh, and Vrok all ended up criticized as cowards by Zweil.

 

Then there’s Cossack, is he an ally? An enemy? Or just here to watch the whole thing burn down around him.

 

He’s distracted enough that he almost manages to get shot, the assassin has taken this opportunity to strike.

 

He dodges the blade, starts running away before whirling around charging taking the assassin’s hesitation as an opportunity to slide between the Galra’s long legs plunging a fork into their calf.

 

Rolling over to Zweil and grabbing the dagger in his boot. The assassin strikes, Keith dodges but cuts it short getting caught in the cheek with the blade. This gives him the chance to draw the dagger across the assassin’s throat.

 

He turns to Zweil once he’s certain his assailant is dead, “apologies sir, I was unable to request the use of your blade. I would also like to thank you for disregarding the conduct regarding weapons.”

 

Zweil takes the knife and narrows his eyes but nods.

 

Keith turns to the crowd, taking advantage of the blood splattered across his clothes, smiling broadly. “I would like to get on to the next part of the ceremony. However, I would like any faux pas that you have planned to be brought up now. It’ll get very tiring and drag this out longer than any of us are willing to deal with. Okay?”

 

The silence is deafening, “okay then, lets get this done.”

****

 

 

The family gathers in the Chamber of Lineage, there’s a murmur, that a half-breed is being given the honor of the ceremony being done in the Chamber. It’s the center piece of any Galra House, each House is different, Hazar as a wealthy and powerful house has a death mask for each member of the Ancestors’ court on the large cathedral walls. The middle is occupied by a massive tree, one of the descendants of a tree taken from Daibazaal before the fall, grown in soil taken from the world, the nutrients returned to the soil to continue the growth.

 

Dorma looks solemnly at Keith, “You Keith Yurak Kogane, are you ready to join the society of the Galra, a full adult with all the tests there of?”

 

“I am.”

 

“Are you ready to enter service to the Empire, to pledge six years of your life? To pledge the rest if needed?”

 

“I am.”

 

“You are expected to know yourself, your training, and what you have to offer do you know this?”

 

“I am a pilot, I am a warrior, I am a conduit, and I am growing, my skills will be honed, my blade will be sharp, and where I am weak I will become strong.”

 

“Then I declare you an adult, as per tradition your family will offer you the tools for you to excel in your life after today.”

 

Keith offers his hand and Dorma takes it and drags his mother’s knife across his palm. His eye twitches but he doesn’t flinch. His blood waters the roots of the tree, a tree that has been nourished by both its and his predecessors, the blood of House Hazar bound in this tree.

 

There’s an uproar and he can hear the whispers.

 

“Does she really think to pollute our house with xenos filth?”

 

“He wont have a place among the Ancestors, why bother wasting his blood and our time?”

 

“I don’t care what she or this ceremony says, he will never be a member of this House.”

 

“Does he think he’s one of us? He’s a half-breed, half-breeds should be shown their place.”

 

There’s a roar both from Dorma and Thace, and at the center of the room and everyone turns to see Zweil and Fiora.

  
Zweil steps forward, “you cowards, you disdain his ascension to our House, despite him fighting and keeping his life before us? He did so with honor and virtue. He has my support.”

 

Fiora nods, “further, unlike whoever violated our most sacred customs in sending the assassin on this sacred day to this sacred ground; he has kept codes of conduct and etiquette. True he has skirted the line, as both Cossack and Thace have done the same it can hardly be blamed on his xenos genetics. He has my support.”

 

The room lapses into sullen silence.

****

 

 

At the tribute ceremony things go about as well as could be expected, most people reserved their gifts until they could take his measure preferring to owe minimal debt. Fiora and Zweil both promise him resources for his campaigns, he has only to make the request.

 

Thace has already shown his, Samael observes in silence with a massive bubble of people refusing to get near. Keith spent most of the party with his teacher, because quiznack being around the extended family.

 

Ylvek surprisingly bought a gift, unsurprisingly it’s a short blade common to servants, specifically the caste meant to lay down their lives for their masters.

 

Keith smiles, it’s sickeningly sweet, Ylvek looks snide, “I wanted to get you something you’ll actually use.”

 

“Aw grunkle Ylvek you really didn’t have to,” the entire table goes dead silent save Fiora, Rai, Thace, and Cossack laughing.

 

Zweil, Leil, Vrock, Kvar, and Dorma also seem to be hiding chuckles.

 

Ylvek’s hand is shaking with rage, he’s kept silent by a female Galra with the armor of a Commander, Emara, she whispers something to him and he swallows whatever remark he had planned.

 

_Interesting._

 

Most of the gifts actually present consist of similar if less impressive slights that Keith still plans to make use of.

 

Dorma smiles when questioned about her gift, “my gift as his guardian, as well as that of his Zuijin, shall be a private affair.”

 

That simple line is delivered with tact, grace, and devastating snub.

****

 

 

As he sees off and thanks his “guests” for attending Emara decides to greet him, leaving without doing so would be considered an insult not just to him but to Dorma and the House as a whole. Waiting this long shows he’s both not worth considering and a chore, without insulting anyone else.

 

“You will never be a full member of this House, just as you will never be a full Galra, when I succeed her Grace you should consider yourself fortunate to be unhoused.”

 

Keith stares at her, smiling pleasantly, she doesn’t bother with the pretense, “oh, cousin Emara, I didn’t know you were able to make it, did you arrive late? It’s customary to offer greeting at the start you know.” He’s deliberately using his most obnoxiously knowing tone.

 

She’s unimpressed, “and, you’re the little half-breed that has all auntie’s attention of late? I am Emara yes, you however will address me as Commander.”

 

“Yes, Commander.”

 

“Tch, why something like this was put together for you I’ll never guess.”

 

“I simply look forward to surpassing everyone’s expectations.”

 

“An easy job,” Emara sneers, “since no one expects anything out of you.”

 

 _Untrue, grandam does,_ “with all due respect Commander, but that is untrue. I expect a great deal from myself, it’s the difference between us.”

 

Her nostrils flare in barely contained fury and if possible her posture stiffens further, idly Keith wonders if she’ll look like a wind-up-toy walking out the door, as soon as she’s over the threshold and the laws of hospitality are done is voice goes cold and smile falls.

  
“Oh, and Emara, from this point on, if you ever send another assassin I will respond with one of my own, and I will only need one. Safe travels.”

****

 

 

The first of his private gifts are his Zuijin’s, “we know that you prefer red, so we threw this together,” it’s a suit of armor, clearly meant for more flexibility than the standard Galra armor.

 

“The weave is made from the silk of Ithaquan arachnids. The armor is a poly-carbon alloy blend, made with our Order’s alchemy, the left gauntlet has a particle projector for a small barrier shield. Even if we cannot be there to protect you in person we will give you protection.”

 

Rai hugs him, “if you die out there I’m gonna kill you in the halls of the Ancestors.”

 

Kvar produces his own gift, a sword, the hilt is bulkier than a normal galra blade which can be stored in the glove, the reason why is shown when a flamberge of brilliant red quintessence emerges. It leaves a trail of melted metal and burning fabric when he takes a practice swing at one of the dummies.

 

He hugs both the Zuijin. Then Dorma approaches, “alright now for my gift, the posting I got you isn’t quite as glamorous as Central Command, in fact it’s very dangerous.”

 

“Grandam, I cannot show my skill and worth in Central. Also who was this assassin?”

 

Dorma frowns, “an unhoused, half-breed tangentially associated with us, it could have been sent by Ylvek, Emara, Leil, or someone suitably capable of lying. Since it’s likely they were promised a place in the house, something their employer wouldn’t have honored.”

 

Then she smiles “I know how eager you are to prove yourself, which is why I pulled some strings and readied some supplies heading to the far quadrant, signa-3, you’ll be going with them.”

 

“Signa-3, wait? You didn’t? That’s Prince Lotor’s current quadrant!”

 

“Indeed it is, the Prince’s court is where you will be stationed.”


	7. Emara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before we go forward into an unknown future here's Keith's coming of age ceremony from the perspective of one opposing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm putting this Galra Culture fact at the beginning because I want to make clear we're still a ways off from the canon start.
> 
> Galra all enter the military for six years, they enter at puberty/the onset for basic training (thirteen for Keith) and do small missions for the Empire.
> 
> After the six years are up they can either continue or settle into civilian life.

Emara overlooks the stronghold of her house, the first time in nearly eight deca-phoebs that the Inner Sanctum has been opened to the family beyond appointment.

 

She thinks back on when the family had first heard of Dorma’s decision, the more hopeful members had thought perhaps she had finally started showing signs of the Syndrome and was preparing her affairs. That soon the new head, likely to be Emara herself, would put an end to both Dorma and Yurak.

 

Others had worried Yurak had finally died and that Dorma was grieving before reopening the house to show she’s an even more ruthless tyrant than before.

 

Some worried that Krolia had been killed, Emara reflects that her cousin hadn’t been seen in well over a deca-phoeb.

 

Soon however, other things began to trickle out, rumors flying that Dorma was looking at marriage contracts, long term ones.

 

Medical information on an alien species, educators, even a tentative message to the Druids.

 

This was all starting to get suspicious, especially once Krolia’s banishment was announced formally.

 

Emara had been the first to piece it together, a half-breed kit, her cousin’s.

 

Of course she informed her father of her suspicions this was a clear mistake as he immediately attempted to kill the child.

 

Yes, should this kit reach adulthood he would be a threat to her power, or at the least his offspring would be. Being Galra enough to inherit, though it would strengthen her house, if Dorma were to fall before he reached full age she could simply unhouse him.

 

Or continue with her aunt’s plan and simply prevent him from joining the military, keeping him in his place as a servant and source of good genes and way to secure the more from a Lower House.

 

Or even a High House, perhaps the Drule? Their genetics were worse than any other House by far, it would secure a great deal of power.

 

Too bad her father declared war on the kit, honor dictates she at least provide nominal support to him.

 

A pity, she respects her aunt, or did were it not clear she was going out of her way to educate a half-breed waste of lineage. To make overtures for him to reach out to secure a military position. It’s like she’s trying to tease the miserable creature with the idea of freedom. Better to crush that and ensure he knows his proper place early.

 

Too late now, even her pet resistance cell had failed, of course they only sent one but one was enough. She had them wiped out, covering her tracks and earning a commendation for wiping out the insurgents. Not a total loss.

 

As she approaches the general hailing frequency buzzes and the message infuriates her, “Great Uncle, I learned a lot about preparedness from your lessons, a pity you didn’t do the same, you just exploded at least twice. One of those wiped out your escape pod bay.”

 

The little wretch had actually made a violent overture towards her father, not only had Dorma not shown him his place she’d indulged him. Worse she allowed this insult, her father had assured her he had a plan for the evening.

 

She wouldn’t be so gauche as to violate the rules of hospitality, not today when it would be so obvious. However much the mere fact a half-breed was being given the illusion of membership to the House galls her.

 

It’s disgusting, but she has self control, it’s why Hazar would be hers, and the little thing will be lucky to be unhoused.

****

 

 

Of course the other annoyance to the kit’s little prank was being ambushed by her father as soon as she lands so he can whine about the kit’s behavior.

 

“It’s to be expected, auntie spoils him, worse, you failed to kill him. You declared war father, if you cannot bring your forces to bear then you should have chosen your battles better.”

 

Yes she is incensed that she’s left cleaning his mess, worse that this is jeopardizing her own prospects.

 

“Do not take that tone with me daughter, this, embarrassment is nothing but a slight from my sister, she’s using the little creature to strike at me with impunity!” His voice becomes shrill with perceived offense.

 

Emara rolls her eyes and strides into the House. The kit in question is nowhere to be seen, Dorma informs her that the head of the House had asked to speak with him today and she’s honoring her father’s wishes.

 

Grandsire, by all accounts he was brilliant, and completely mad, Emara’s own memories of the man are faint and dim, her father and he having long fallen out by the time of her birth.

 

Then he was claimed by the syndrome their House’s bloodcurse, the kit was their best tool at eliminating the syndrome from their line and her father wants to waste that out of spite.

 

True Emara herself desires the boy’s destruction now, but that’s because honor, filial piety, and self preservation require it.

 

The boy has been given too much leeway, he’s a threat now, one that must be curtailed.

 

A pity, his piloting and his tenacity would have made him a valuable Blood Serf.

 

She decides not to inform her father, he can be embarrassed for the embarrassment he’s heaped on her.

****

 

 

The child is proper, poised, and insufferably capable, he doesn’t show weakness, he deflects and trades barbs, using each introduction to gauge his potential enemies’ weakness.

 

It’s clear many of the House have tried to kill him, mores the pity that she’d been dragged into this. Offering herself as an ally, true her desire would ultimately be to undermine and bind him, but it would have been easier as a potential ally.

 

His father’s species is clearly too dependent on family the way he gravitates towards his grandam.

 

That is until he’s finished making his rounds, then he spends most of his time with the Druid that’s present.

 

That one of those foul things was invited means that it’s a tutor.

 

Even were she not snubbing the kit she has no intention of getting near a Druid. It’s disturbing to see something that looks so much like a Galra kit so clearly attached to it. Following it like a lost yupper puppy, even seeming to enjoy the thing’s company.

 

Emara knocks back a glass of her brandy, tonight was going to be very long.

 

Her father’s assassin attacks when the boy is distracted, unfortunately not distracted enough since he manages to evade it.

  
Worse when it comes down to it he’s a capable fighter, using his small size to his advantage hampering his assailant’s movement.

 

Then using his knowledge of who’s carrying what to arm himself, even allowing himself to be cut in order to make the killing strike.

 

His Galra half is strong, and cunning, a pity he’s so tainted by xenos, that those inferior genes should muddy the pool so much.

 

Worse, Zweil, one who’s conservative and military ideals she would have relied on to form a bulwark against the kit’s ascension, seems impressed.

 

_Of course he is, the boy just killed someone without batting an eye and then immediately apologizes for any possible impugning of honor._

 

The ceremony itself is next, this will prove the worst part, watching the sacred tree tainted by him.

****

 

 

It’s just the shit show she thought it would be, with people all around her offering their bitter resentment.

 

If she were of weaker stock she would join the crowd, but she doesn’t she holds her tongue, it isn’t their place to object. Not by any code of conduct or law, perhaps a sense of propriety but nothing more.

 

The silencing roars come as no surprise, Dorma and Thace are obvious, that Zweil joined them shows his throwing in with the kit.

 

Fiora is an unpleasant surprise, Emara had hoped that the horribly uptight creature could offer her a reprieve. Worse, thanks to her father’s blunder what Fiora says is true, the cub has maintained etiquette and the laws of honor, his detractors have not, he’s roped another ally.

 

She has too though, others threaten him, many hate him, Commanders like Prorok and Sendak will disdain him, even generals like Throk will be allies to her once she has to deal with his career. With luck Dorma will have left him to a fringe Commander and he’ll be open to a real attack.

****

 

 

Her father offers the kit an insult, one he turns back, ‘grunkle’ if it weren’t already a long and horrible quintant she would perhaps have felt amused.

 

Cossack’s reaction clearly marks this incident at least partially as his doing.

 

The kit’s been promised resources from Fiora, and Zweil. It shouldn’t be able to save him, but she’s not going to underestimate him.

 

“Father if you slip up here you will not have honor or law to protect you. Do you really want to challenge a half-breed kit to a legitimate duel?”

 

_One a soft has been like you wont win._

****

 

 

Eventually the chore that is the quintant is nearly done. Just one last thing, a formal declaration of war.

 

“You will never be a full member of this House, just as you will never be a full Galra, when I succeed her Grace you should consider yourself fortunate to be unhoused.”

 

He’s all superficial smile and bared teeth, his response in a horribly obnoxious tone that all children seem to have mastered. “oh, cousin Emara, I didn’t know you were able to make it, did you arrive late? It’s customary to offer greeting at the start you know.”

 

His barb is unimpressive, he knows her game, that he should think that something as uninspired as this would phase her. “So, you’re the little half-breed that has all auntie’s attention of late? I am Emara yes, you however will address me as Commander.”

 

“Yes, Commander.”

 

“Tch, why something like this was put together for you I’ll never guess.”

 

“I simply look forward to surpassing everyone’s expectations.”

 

“An easy job,” _so the little dreg thinks well of himself?_ “since no one expects anything out of you.”

 

“With all due respect Commander,” no sentence that begins that way ever holds respect due or not, “but that is untrue. I expect a great deal from myself, it’s the difference between us.”

 

That is a barb, that this whelp this little thing would dare to even imply that she, an Imperial Commander is anything other than far above him is the truest insult he could have delivered. Still the rules of hospitality are still in effect, that makes this difficult.

 

Instead she leaves using the walk over the threshold to order her own response, one not bound by esoteric rules. Before she can though his voice breaks the silence again. “Oh, and Emara, from this point on, if you ever send another assassin I will respond with one of my own, and I will only need one. Safe travels.”

 

This is no insult, this is a promise, one made in honor, almost, but not quite, a challenge to a duel.

 

Once she reaches her ship her thoughts are no longer clouded by anger, the anger remains, but now it is cooled into a righteous fury. “I will rise to this challenge, I will enjoy your defeat _Keith,_ ” the least she can do, the least honor dictates even to xenos, is to remember the name of a capable adversary.

 

As she leaves the system official channels are announced, Keith is going to the one place that he’ll be untouchable, between the political maneuvering required, the danger of the front, and the simple fact that the Prince never stays long in one system. Lotor’s court will put Keith beyond her reach, “well played auntie,” but this gives her something equally dangerous, time.

 

After six deca-phoebs the cub will find the Empire a dangerous place, a place that will be about as friendly to him as it is to the resistance vermin.


	8. Court of the Exiled Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up starting here to the end of this fic and well into the next one is Keith as soldier. Which is to say, Keith as very much not a nice person.

“Alright kit, do you have everything, sleeping roll? Knife, armor, sword, pulse pistol, Pulse rifle? Thermal clothes? Some of the planets in that quadrant are ice-worlds.”

 

“Yes grandam, I checked your list three times to make sure,” Keith smiles fondly, he looks at his armor from the Zuijin, the mask stares back at him, cold and unyielding, it has two horizontal eye slits, or what look like eye slits, they’re sensors. He can open them and see through them if the armor’s internal supply fails.

 

There’s also an emergency release in the back, the appearance though, it’s intimidating. Keith smiles at it, it will become the stuff of nightmares on the front.

 

“I know kit,” Dorma hugs him, “I just worry, you’ll be safe from the family but I’d rather you were doing your basic training in a Galra barracks.”

 

“I know, but thanks to you, Thace, Rai, Samael, and Kvar my whole life has been basic training. I’m ready for the front.”

 

“You’re still so young,” Dorma’s voice is quiet, “so I will worry, it’ll just be another thing you have to live with.”

 

“Well, living with it means I’m alive,” Keith smiles at her.

 

She kisses the top of his head, then sighs, “it is time, lets see you off.”

 

The Kvar and Rai are both outside the door, “alright cub, it’s time, got everything? You remember how to adjust your armor right? You’re still growing and you need to know it.”

 

Keith laughs, “you’re as bad as grandam!”

 

Rai flushes a little and Droma playfully raps his head, “what do you mean ‘as bad as grandam?’”

 

They take him to his fighter, “a frigate will take you most of the way.”

 

“Come back safe.”

 

With that he climbs into his fighter and goes to meet his escort.

****

 

 

Intelligence has shown that Lotor was last seen in the Uvaria system, on a world covered in oceans. There are some people there, but they are mostly a rural agri-world, useful for supplying food to the Empire, not space faring, easily subjugated.

 

Entering atmo he selects a plateau outside a small village to land on.

****

 

 

His descent is watched by a group of people. “Well let’s see what this Hazar whelp can do.”

****

 

 

Keith lands and exits his ship, there’s a light rain, common here given the volume of water. Opening his senses for Galra in the vicinity, if need be he’ll use the quintessence he was given to lengthen his field of observances, however this turns out to be unnecessary. He can feel a mass of energy, largely Galra but there’s something else, unmistakably linked to the Galra quintessence but not Galra. Curious.

 

There are five signatures, it takes him a moment to parse that because one of the signatures is near overwhelming. They are coming to him.

 

He opens his eyes to see a large armored figure charging him with a Galra warhammer. He waits then dodges, kicking at this person and causing them to stumble forward. To bad they are well enough trained to catch themselves.

 

Keith almost gets hit from behind, his assailant is invisible, but he can sense their energy, he waits for the proper time then the behemoth charges again, the invisible one is trying to use her companion to ambush him. Instead he feints and the large assailant runs into the invisible one causing her to become visible.

 

“Quiznack Zathrid!”

 

“Sorry Ezor, it’s not like I can see you either.”

 

A third assailant enters the fray, she’s also capable, Keith’s left on the defensive, unable to continue delivering blows, they’re toying with him.

 

They are all strong enough, that they could wipe the floor with him but they aren’t.

 

Then his mind goes blank, he can feel a foreign quintessence invading his thoughts, he tries to fight it but everything just becomes so slippery his thoughts falling by the wayside.

****

 

 

Once Narti has him under her spell Lotor reveals himself, the other generals are talking among themselves. “That was pathetic, he’s barely a kit and you two had that much trouble?”

 

“Aw, c’mon Acxa, he was ready for me, must’ve heard me, and maybe he’s not a kit, maybe he’s like part Unilu or something you know they never send full-bloods to us.”

 

“Well there’s an easy answer to that question, Narti have him remove his helmet.”

 

Their newest does so, he looks like a full-blood Hazar to anyone who can’t see the signs.

 

“He is a kit, tiny, and full-blood, Hazar too, why send him out here?” Zathrid asks.

 

“Narti is he full-blood?”

  
Their answer comes in the form of the person in question reverting to a very alien form, no fur save the short military cut on his head, round ears, no stripes.

 

“Interesting. What is your name?”

 

He’s received the full rundown from Dorma but he wants to hear it from the kit’s mouth.

****

 

 

Something’s wrong, he shifted, he did so without meaning to, he hasn’t done that since…

  
His thoughts are muddy, there’s foreign quintessence in his mind, he can feel it apart from him, he feels the anger, the same anger he felt during his final test with Samael. Again he gives into it.

****

 

 

Narti snaps her hand back just in time and Kova hisses as red quintessence pours off the boy, the rain around him evaporating in an instant and the grass is burned away leaving a charred circle.

 

There’s a roar when this happens and his eyes go from glazed to clear instantly. He summons his blade warily looking around him.

  
“What was that who-” then he notices Lotor standing there and immediately drops to one knee retracting his blade.

 

“Prince Lotor, my apologies sir, I did not realize.”

 

_Very interesting._

 

“No, no, I wanted to test your capabilities, I should have been more prepared for the possibility of a surprise. Certainly not the first time I’ve been surprised” the Prince shoots a sidelong look at Narti while helping Keith to his feet.

 

She just shrugs.

 

“I haven’t had an outburst like that in a while, my body seems to reject invasive quintessence. Her Grace and my tutor were never able to figure out why.”

 

The strange looking half-Galra with the colorful skin leans into his personal space giving him a once over, “that’s quite a neat quirk, too bad you can’t control it.”

 

“Not so useful as invisibility eh?” Keith grins.

 

She looks stunned, “I thought Narti got you before you actually saw me.”

 

“My rejection of invasive quintessence is only a part of my ability, the reason I was tutored at all is for my ability to sense quintessence fields. Do what you want to my vision, I’ll still find you once I’ve sensed you.”

 

She leans back and smiles, “looks like we’ve got a live one here.”

 

Zathrid laughs and grabs his arm in greeting, squeezing hard enough to hurt, “you’re brutal kit, I like that. I’m Zathrid, the bouncy one with personal space issues is Ezor. Silent spell caster is Narti and the killjoy is Acxa. How old are you though?”

 

“Thirteen, my non-Galra parent species evidently ages much faster than Galra though how that affects anything is anyone’s guess.”

 

She looks taken aback, “you should be in the barracks for basic not out on the front.”

 

Keith scowls, “given Hazar’s love of assassins I’m safer on the front. At least I know where my attacks will generally be coming from. Her Grace should have mentioned all of this.”

 

They all look to Lotor who smiles, “I’ll confess I thought it would be more informative to see how much our newest volunteers on his own.”

 

The others all seem to groan a bit, apparently this isn’t exactly new for Lotor and he just seems amused by this.

 

“Why are you out here though? This is an underdeveloped world, wouldn’t your frigate alone be enough to conquer it?”

 

“Likely yes, but I’d risk two things, first damaging what I’m really hear for, and ruling a world is easier if I don’t have to put down rebellions every pheob.”

 

Keith nods, he looks around, “are all of you half-Galra?”

 

Zathrid smiles and slaps his back almost hard enough for him to face plant had the general with the bangs _Acxa?_ Not decided catch him.

 

“Probably all of us right kiddo?” Keith blushes but hides it by returning his helmet.

 

“You don’t have to hide it out here.”

 

Beneath the helmet Keith smiles, “I’m not, my Zuijin made this armor for me, I intend to use it when in possibly hostile terrain.”

 

“Alright you lot, we’ve met our newest and taken his basic measure, but we are here for a reason.”

 

The group sighs, except Keith who’s too overwhelmed and Acxa who seems used to this sort of thing.

****

 

 

The elder’s house is large and weathered on a large cliff overlooking the ocean.

 

“This place is our destination, it’s the oldest standing structure on the planet if there’s anything to uncover it’s here.”

 

“What exactly are we looking for?” Keith asks.

 

“Anything pertaining to lost Altea. The Altean race had colonies across the known universe, and many were abandoned before even Alfor’s time.”

 

Alfor, the arch-traitor according to all histories, though in some of the histories Keith’s great grandsire Yurak provided him, Alfor helped evacuate Daibazaal before it’s destruction.

 

Such knowledge was forbidden and it took Keith movements of decoding while preparing for his journey here to accrue it. Keith feels he should be revolted, the Alteans are the reason the Galra are how they are, that’s what he’s been taught.

  
The new information, his grandsire’s gift to him, it’s tantalizing. Perhaps it’s the key to remaking the Empire into an efficient power. One that doesn’t require the destruction of worlds to function.

 

“We’re here on an archaeological expedition then?” Keith tries to keep his voice level but he can’t contain it’s naked hunger entirely.

 

Acxa chuckles a bit to herself and Ezor sighs, “looks like we got another one, congrats boss you’re not the only history freak in the group.”

 

Lotor smiles, “appreciative of lost knowledge then?”

 

The elder is expecting them, Keith can sense quintessence swirling about the room, blue primarily, drawing power from the waves and rain outside.

 

“You are not welcome here invaders,” the Elder is of an amphibious species, gray skinned with tan spots across his body and pudgy fingers he’s standing at the edge of a small pool of water, it’s charged with quintessence.

 

Keith keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword, there’s a second signature of quintessence, yellow hidden among the blue. He almost missed it.

 

Lotor steps forward, “we are simply travelers come in search of knowledge, that is all, bear us no ill will and you will be treated fairly in response.”

 

Keith tenses, Acxa looks ready to pounce on him.

 

The yellow quintessence surges forward and so does Keith Acxa puts herself between he and Lotor who doesn’t flinch. Even as a spray of water erupts from the pool and a towering native amphibian surges to grab him in its jaws.

 

Keith’s sword is out, he shears through the amphibian with minimal effort it being concerned with Lotor and not the smallest of his group.

 

The Elder looks shaken as the beast collapses.

 

Lotor sighs, “a pity, Narti.”

 

Keith gets an outside view of what it looks like when Narti overrides a person’s freewill.

 

The Elder’s mind takes more time to break than his, apparently the creature is somewhat adept at manipulating quintessence and is more resistant.

 

Eventually though he does break and reveals a secret passed down to him, something in the basement.

 

Lotor nods and Acxa runs the old man through.

 

The basement is filled with books, though there’s little of interest, Keith decides to take a small number of them to research later.

 

Lotor seems more enamored with the walls themselves, “incredible, the foundations of this building appear to be the top of an older Altean structure. There must be someway inside it hidden in the room.”

 

Keith holds out his hand and runs it along the wall trying to block out all the outside noise.

 

Then he senses it, a glimmer of power, it’s reacting to the Prince it seems.

 

“My lord, there’s quintessence beyond this wall, it seems to be reacting to your presence.”

 

“Interesting, is it right behind the wall?”

 

“No sir, a few increments towards the water.”

 

“Excellent, Zathrid?”

 

“Finally I get to break something.”

 

Zathrid swings her warhammer at the wall and it collapses inward revealing a dark hallway with white floors.

 

They move along the hall to find a lift at the end, “the shaft goes down a ways, I can’t sense anything but the ocean here is especially charged so my senses aren’t too reliable right now.”

 

Acxa looks at him, “is there anyway to sharpen them? You were able to sense that gladiator right?”

 

Keith looks at her and sighs, “only because his quintessence was both close and different from the surrounding water. To locate something so far away I need two things, first is an energy source, I don’t like nose bleeds from hemorrhaging thank you. And something to identify, because I’ll be sifting through the quintessence of the oceans, lifeforms and every quintessence conducting rock and metal down there.”

 

“Would an Altean work?” Lotor asks idly.

 

Acxa looks horrified.

 

“If you can conjure one, possibly, if what we’re looking for is Altean then that might prove enough of a connection.”

 

Lotor holds out his hand, “my mother Honerva was Altean, my own quintessence may work.”

 

Keith eyes him in shock, sure everyone knew Lotor was eccentric, he employed exclusively half-breeds in his retinue. “You mean you’re a half-.”

 

Zathrid growls, Acxa frowns, Ezor scowls, and Narti offers a low hiss, Lotor smiles, “you are new and grew up among the High Houses. So I will not hold a single faux pas against you, but the term half-breed is not welcome among us. Neither are those who use it so casually.”

 

Keith bows low in supplication, “my apologies lord, I misspoke, it will not happen again.”

 

“I figure as much, now the mission at hand?”

 

Keith touches his hand and tries to clear his thoughts, Lotor’s quintessence is overwhelming it’s almost like being submerged in a pool of liquid Balmera crystal. Keith stretches out his senses, he can feel small fish, arthropods, crustaceans, worms, plants, predators and prey. The ocean around them teems with life and that life makes a storm of quintessence.

 

Underneath it all, and among it all is something distinctly alien, something Altean.

 

“There’s something at the bottom, it’s old, but there’s power, it’s drawing power from around it and putting it back into the ocean. The core of it is tremendous.”

****

 

 

Lotor notes his hand warming up to the point of discomfort, and remembering the heat released when Keith broke Narti’s control distantly wonders if placing his hand in Keith’s was a wise decision.

 

Then Keith speaks, about something, a structure most likely based on his research, at the bottom of the ocean.

 

He reclaims his hand and smiles, “let’s see where this goes then shall we?”

 

The lift activates, true to Keith’s prediction, when he approaches it.

****

 

 

The ride down is long and thanks, partially to Zathrid, cramped. When it opens they are greeted with a spectacular sight, an underwater structure with a particle barrier holding the ocean up. It leaks at certain parts water misting through and veiling the place in faint rainbows.

 

It’s breathtaking, “what is this place?”

 

“An Altean alchemy hall” Lotor sounds equally awed.

 

Keith looks at him askance.

 

“Alteans went through many phases in their pursuit of the stars, at one time their Alchemy made them a powerful and ruthless Empire in their own right. Later leaders prioritized diplomacy and state craft over war and weaponry.”

 

“It’s why they lost the war” Zathrid supplies, under her normal confidence is a small amount of concern.

 

“That and my father’s attack came as a surprise.”

 

“I doubt there will be much left here” Ezor sounds bored and mildly disappointed.

 

“True, but we might as well see what we can get.”

 

The only things of note are a blue sphere powering the particle barrier and a carving depicting a traveler following some kind of map to a fantastic realm.

 

Lotor is enraptured, capturing images of it in his on board computer.

 

“Zathrid secure the power source please.”

 

Zathrid makes a monosyllabic noise of affirmation and lifts the sphere from it’s pedestal.

 

“I suggest we run as the particle barrier will fail now.”

 

They do just that as water starts pouring in from holes opening up across the barrier, making it to the lift in the nick of time.

 

“What would we have done it this wasn’t on a separate power source?” Keith asks.

 

Lotor’s expression returns to his genial smile, “we would have left the sphere.”

 

Keith blinks realizing the Prince’s knowledge of Altean technology must truly be vast.

 

“You get used to it,” Acxa says.

 

“Sort of, kind of, not really,” Ezor finishes.

 

Lotor just continues smiling his distant smile.

 

Above ground is a small gathering of amphibians, “ah yes, the locals.”

 

“Terribly sorry for the mess but I’m afraid I must inform you that you are all now members of the Galra Empire. Surrender and you shall be allowed to go about your lives. Resist and you will be destroyed.”

 

“The Elder is dead, murdered, animals! Destroy them!” shrieks the leader of the mob.

 

“Forceful subjugation it is then, Zathrid dear I’ll take the orb, feel free to enjoy yourself.”

 

“YES SIR!” Zathrid crows joyusly.

 

Keith marvels at how Zathrid throws herself into her work once unrestrained.

 

“You don’t seem too put off by this, normally people can’t stomach their first time see Zathrid, ahem, enjoying herself.”

 

Keith shrugs, “when I was ten I watched my Druid boil and burst an assassin sent to kill me from the inside out. It ruined my training clothes.”

 

Lotor laughs, Acxa side eyes Keith, Ezor makes an exaggerated ‘yuck’ face.

 

“Right we’ll mop up and we can be on to the next planet in the quadrant. I hear the Lexvala system has a species that’s just started space travel.”


	9. Front Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and the generals begin their campaign.

It takes a full deca-phoeb to restructure the planet after it’s taken, Lotor sets up a puppet government, the regional governor, one of the amphibians. They call themselves the Narvim, they were largely nomadic, following large herds of mammalian creatures, returning to sacred pools to spawn, but now that the Galra are here they are encouraged to domesticate and farm.

 

The layout is designed to keep them near their spawning beds without polluting them. The real surprise comes when it’s discovered that there’s an equally intelligent and psychically inclined species of cephalopds beneath the waves.

 

They have similar abilities to Narti, using them to hunt, they are a loner species and even less developed then their terrestrial counterparts.

 

Still, Keith decides to contact Dorma to get a message to the Druids who may find the creatures abilities of interest.

 

Lotor doesn’t like the Druids or Haggar, or Zarkon, these are sentiments Keith understands. To a degree, refusing to make full use of resources out of spite is foolish was one of the first things his grandam taught him.

 

_One day you may find you need some of those who plot your death young one. Then you will have to make a choice, will you make use of them? Or will you be destroyed for stubborn pride?_

 

She told him a story about a Noi Clare adviser that taught her this lesson. “He was completely tactless when he told me though so I had him removed from my service.”

 

He remembers her warm chuckle at the memory, “it took me twelve deca-phoebs to overcome my pride long enough to have him brought back, he gave truly good advice, never did figure out tact though. I valued him highly, in case you were wondering why you’re uncle’s stripes are white.”

 

Watching, and helping the generals put down resistance a plan starts to form in his own mind. There are many, warlord types mostly, who are eager to help them. To consolidate their own power, even if it’s second to Galra masters.

 

Keith wipes the blood of another village elder from his knife and retrieves his sword from the corpse of the charging brute he’d thrown it at.

 

“Narti,” his silent partner on this nods, “can you sense if someone under your control is telling the truth? Or even better, can you implant suggestions that activate at a later date?”

  
She holds up one finger to indicate the first question, nods.

 

_Yes, good._

 

She holds up a second finger and makes a so-so gesture.

 

_I can work with that._

 

They decide to experiment, turns out that she can do it to a certain degree but it being more a long term command reduces it’s flexibility. They are able to use it to crush the last organized resistance though.

 

Reviewing in the next system the plan finishes itself.

 

Acxa debriefs them on the planet, “unfortunately the resistance has set up a listening outpost here. Apparently they are trying to deal in engines capable of hyperdrive jumps for resources and weapons to fight the Empire with.”

 

“How successful have they been?” Lotor asks.

 

“Nominally, the Tehuitlan are a warrior species not too dissimilar to the Galra in attitude. Their world is ruled by a hereditary dictator, his father seized power over the world in a series of coups, and was the only person holding nuclear capabilities. When he died the current regent was crowned.”

 

She pulls up the figure of a fat reptilian with a vibrant green crest of feathers, “this is the regent, Lachil, he’s started facing real resistance though since he’s viewed as soft and decadent. Already there’s a number of rebellions brewing.”

 

Keith turns to Lotor, “I have an idea my lord, if I may this world is a perfect test-bed for it. However it would require precise timing with the resistance already here.”

 

Lotor raises an eyebrow, “continue.”

 

“If one or two generals could sneak onto the surface then we can make contact with the rebels devoted to fighting Lachil. By offering weapons and resources we can turn them to our side, overthrow Lachil and claim the planet.”

 

“I was already intending this, it’s timing would not be an issue.”

 

“Timing comes from destroying the rebel base after we have seized power by proxy.”

 

“Why not now?”

 

“Because when the rebels arrive to find out why their listening station went dark and make contact with our proxy leaders they’ll know this world has fallen. Which is why we need to destroy it after we are ready to release a second group of rebels, one we can be sure is loyal to us and the Empire for the resistance to make contact with.”

 

“Allowing us to use that group to infiltrate the resistance?” Lotor smiles, “clever, though we already have spies.”

 

“This could be more than spies, if they remain loyal to us they can work their way through resistance ranks, feeding information and eventually.”

 

“Being able to create operations and cells of their own.”

 

Acxa smiles, “with that we could use the resistance to fight as proxies against our own enemies both within and outside the Empire.”

 

Keith smiles a particularly vicious grin, “you can thank my cousin Emara for the idea, though I intend to learn from her failure.”

 

“It will require absolute loyalty to us for it to work, not just timing the listening outpost’s destruction.”

 

“Yes sir, it will.”

 

“This is your scheme Keith, you shall run the operation, Acxa, I want you to oversee it.”

 

“What about you?” Acxa asks, her tone calm and professional.

 

“I will be pursuing other leads based on what we were able to extract from that Altean sphere.”

 

Acxa and Keith exchange a look neither sure what to make of the other, but ultimately salute and prepare their plan of attack.

****

 

 

The flight to the world is cramped and awkward, apparently Lotor didn’t want to risk two ships being spotted and captured so Acxa gets to share Keith’s fighter with him.

 

Given his nature and attitude both of them are of the same mind, “Prince Lotor’s fucking with us isn’t he?”

 

“You think he gave this mission to us in jest?” Acxa sounds like she’s waiting for Keith to impugn her sovereign's honor and have excuse for a legitimate duel.

 

“Not the mission, the means, it’s what he does isn’t it? Testing people, see how they react, plan and act accordingly.”

 

She’s quiet for a minute, “I’ve spent deca-phoebs with the prince, and I’m still not sure what he’s got going on in his head most of the time. I know he wants to tap a vast source of quintessence, I think he’s doing it for the sake of the Empire.”

 

“Not for his father though.”

 

Acxa stiffens behind him, “it’s pretty clear,” Keith continues undaunted, “he doesn’t like Zarkon, or his laws. Dislikes Haggar too from the sound of it.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Kieth nods, “do you think he can change anything if he succeeds his father?”

 

He catches the alarm on her face, “discussing such things is treason…”

 

“I’m discussing nothing, I just want to know what it is he wants.”

 

Maybe one day he’d tell her, maybe one day she’ll tell him.

****

 

 

They land on the planet and immediately set to work. Finding resistance fighters is easy enough, the government uses communications and ciphers provided by their off-world allies. It’s allowed them to outmaneuver the resistance, when in the hands of one of Lachil’s more capable commanders, and not say the dictator or one appointed via nepotism.

 

“How long do we have to do this?” Keith asks.

 

Acxa shrugs, “until we contact Lotor reporting success or failure.”

 

“Until we succeed or die you mean.”

 

“This isn’t the Empire, you accept a base loss to ensure total victory. One world is meaningless if the system inevitably falls. I would have thought you learned this during our campaign.”

 

“It was an underdeveloped agri-world, it’s not like we really had much opportunity to fail.”

 

“You did, you started using your blades more than your pulse rifle, or pistol.”

 

“I’m better with them.”

 

“It’s a disadvantage.”

 

“Fine, let’s get on with it then.”

****

 

 

Acxa was right, he hates to admit it, but she’s also a pragmatic and capable leader, the two trade fighting tips, her teaching him marksmanship and he teaching her blade work. Apparently Lotor didn’t advance past a certain point with her, that made Keith feel on edge.

 

His ability to sense quintessence is also valuable, it leads them to a shaman that runs the local cell. It takes time, lots and lots of time.

 

Half a quiznacking deca-phoeb to earn their trust, but it also lets them weaken the dictatorship.

 

And for Keith to earn several nasty scratches mostly on his legs, “quiznacking toe-claws. The pictures we saw did not indicate those.”

 

Acxa shrugs, helping bandage his legs while he does his own arms, “evidently Lachil and his advisers pedicure them down for the sake of fashion.”

 

Keith looks as unimpressed as she had, “that’s really stupid, what if someone’s trying to assassinate him?”

 

“It hasn’t helped their soldiers against us.”

 

Keith waves it off like it’s of not concern, “that’s because we’re competent.”

****

 

 

Too bad for the rebel leaders both domestic and off-world these missions have also let him build a small cadre of young and exceedingly loyal Tehuitlan warriors. Their dictating brotherhood to their squad-mates, which Keith and Acxa are now a part of. With these six he has enough to put his plan into motion and no longer requires the rebel forces on the planet.

 

Xelquel came in to speak with he and Acxa, saluting, in Galran no less, maybe Keith’s a lil proud of them. Just maybe. “We have discovered the location of the regent’s communication facility, and his xenos allies.”

 

Keith smiles, but Acxa raises a brow, “xenos? and what are we?”

 

Xelquel looks confused, his crest twitches slightly, “you are the emissaries of the Galra Empire, you are our liberators, you are the ones who will bring light to the universe. You do not skulk in the shadows of proxies like these resistance, you act with honor.”

 

Once the report is given he and Acxa begin planning their attack, “so, how do you think our merry band is progressing?”

 

“I think if it means bringing down the resistance and aiding the Galra they’d jump at the opportunity to infiltrate our enemies. Of course I wont feel secure until Narti has a look through their intentions. I think your scheme has a good chance of working.”

****

 

 

This all leads to his current assignment, to undermine and destroy the communications array run by the regent. Which it turns out, is operated by resistance fighters, an Unilu and a Puigian.

 

“Acxa, have you disabled outgoing comms?”

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“Because I just found a source of information that will make our jobs even easier.”

 

The two were resistance yes, but they were green, expecting to escape should the Empire attack, expecting the dictator to be a bulwark between them and torture.

 

Idiots, Keith twists the blade in the Unilu’s second shoulder, “last chance rebel scum, you can surrender the codes, or you can watch your friend die.”

 

“He has the codes! The regent has the codes!”

 

_So they think I’m under the regent’s pay? Even better._

 

The Unilu cursed, “I told them one dictator’s the same as another.”

 

“The regent suspects you use a second code, one you use for your own ships. Did you think we wouldn’t consider an out base?”

 

“Regent, regent, regent, we all know general Quehtla is the one who’s orders your following.”

 

Keith just shrugs, _oh these little fools have no idea_ , “does it really matter?”

 

His voice modulated by his helmet, the eye slits impassive.

 

Puigians really are cowards, it was shaking just looking at the armor, this works for him.

 

“Alright fine, it’s not like you’ll get any real use from them those are only codes for this base.”

 

“This base is the one I need,” once the codes are confirmed he smiles, “Acxa, send a message to Prince Lotor,” the full horror of their situation dawns on the rebels, “tell him we’re ready to obliterate the base.”

 

“No, no, no, no! You have no idea what you’re doing the Galra wont spare the regent or the general you’ll be wiped out too!”

 

“Shut it you idiot if they wan-”

 

Keith cackles as he silences his prisoner permanently, “you morons, I am Galra, and this is the newest Empire province.”

****

 

 

With that he leaves the Puigian, injured missing a limb it’s stump cauterized by his blade, he’ll escape, he’ll limp to their ship, repair it and make for another Base.

 

Keith will follow him once that happens, tailing his life energy, then he’ll lay waste to the base.

 

“By the end of this campaign the worlds will be begging to deal with Lotor if only to avoid his generals.” He tells Zathrid, watching the one rebel survivor escape ship sailing off into the void.

 

She grins down at him, “you are cruel, vicious, and an absolute sadist,” she wipes a mock tear from her eye, “you’ve grown so much in such a short time it moves me little cub.”

 

Keith smiles at her then turns to Lotor, “I must say Acxa is the one who came up with this aspect of it. Her plan to use one survivor, not just to spread fear but act as a beacon to track was something I hadn’t considered.”

 

“Ah but you’re the one who suggested using this to make a blow to the resistance numbers and use it to make way for our own plants.” Acxa replies.

 

The two of them go on like this until Zathrid and Ezor take to laughing at them as some sort of in-joke.

 

“A good plan, but meaningless until we actually engage them, and do you have people to plant in the resistance in mind?”

 

“Yes sir, our squad back on Youra-Meza, there are six of them, loyal to each other, and to us. If these results prove promising we can begin applying them on other worlds too.”

 

He stiffens to full attention, “though as Acxa suggested, it would be prudent to have Narti examine the depth of their loyalties.”

 

Lotor nods, “indeed, I will be eager to see the full fruits of our labor here.”

 

Keith salutes, “shall we pursue the survivor?”

 

Lotor raises an eyebrow, “you said that you had difficulty sensing over vast stretches of distance.”

 

“If you can get us to the quadrant I can narrow it down to the system and world, I have familiarized myself with the rebel’s life signs,” Keith says holding up a phial of quintessence. “All I need is a power source.”

****

 

 

Acxa stands in Keith’s room watching him prepare, there are two polished Balemra crystals on either side of him.

 

“Is this safe?”

 

“Is anything the Druids teach or give us?”

 

She shudders, how much time has Keith spent with them? He seems familiar enough with their methods to be flippant about it.

 

He puts the quintessence in a syringe and puts it against his neck. Pushing the plunger down he chucks it aside and braces his hands against the crystals and pedestal.

  
Before her eyes he rabidly shifts through his human and Galra, his human form’s veins glowing with quintessence. Finally his form settles on Galra, the protective outer lid hiding his pupils. He hisses, his it sounds angry and pained, two voices from one mouth. The temperature in the room sky rockets as though instead of a young half-Galra there’s a bonfire roaring in the middle of the room. A red aura surrounds him.

 

“On the fourth world of the Ulippa system is our quarry, it hides in a great base hidden in ice and mist. There are over one hundred and fifty life forms hiding there, be warned there are many ice worms within the surrounding tundra.”

 

The red aura dissipates and the temperature rapidly cools. Keith sags and Acxa rushes to his side, “we got the place.”

 

“Yes, what was that?”

 

“Dunno, it’s been with me my whole life. I haven’t always been strong with it, my gran- her Grace, secured a Druid to tutor me. I spent about five deca-phoebs under Samael as it’s pupil, I’m still not actually sure what it is honestly.”

 

Acxa swallows her discomfort.

 

“Rest it will be a little over a varga until we get there...”

 

“I will be joining the fight though, we will sweep these resistance from the universe, and this is my kill.”

****

 

 

Lotor stands before his assembled generals, “this shall be remembered for years, the purging of Ulippa, already we have brought low two resistance operations. Soon, with the help of our newest, a major base will fall.”

 

“Are you ready generals? To meet the enemy on the field of battle and lay low their foundations?”

 

All five assembled commanders and across the base every sentry and lieutenant salutes, “vrepit sa Prince Lotor!”

****

 

 

The frigate drops out of hyper-drive and Keith from his fighter salutes, “I’ll cover you while you five make your way to the surface.”

 

Keith drops his fighter’s full maneuvering coming on line. The base is equipped with a surface to air cannon clearly stolen from the Empire. He fires first on their still parked shuttles and fighters while Lotor’s frigate descends, drawing the fire from the cannon, he takes advantage of it slowly rotating to change it’s target from him to the frigate.

 

The wings of his fighter split and the charge of his small ion cannon hits the point where the base of the cannon meets the pivot where defenses are weakest. The cannon explodes with a thunderous noise the echoes across the base.

 

He’s able to maintain like this for almost a full varga, unfortunately too many of the resistance’s fighters take to the air and he’s forced to make an emergency landing.

 

The fighters are cut apart by the frigate’s cannons, still shuttles are escaping.

 

Keith uses the emergency escape of his vessel, and finds himself surrounded, there’s hushed whispers, “it’s not a sentry, too small to be a Galra though?”

 

“How young are they?”

 

“You saw that flying the Galra must have strong armed someone.”

 

Raising his shield and activating his blade Keith hones his loathing into cold fury and charges. His armor augmenting his speed, the first resistance fighter can’t even scream.

 

The rest open fire but on where he was and another falls. He shifts his shield so it’s between him and the remaining fighters. There’s a roar from behind them and too concerned with him rushing the nearest they fail to anticipate Acxa and Zathrid emerging form the mist until it’s too late.

 

Someone yells to “release the ice worms!”

 

That’s a not good sign, the bright blue creatures surge forward, there’s an adult and a large pack of young. The adult bats Zathrid aside easily.

 

Narti manages to subdue one of the younger one’s directing it to one of its siblings. Keith bisects one of his own only to be surprised by a bite to his side, his armor manages to stop their rotating teeth giving him the opportunity to bring his blade down through it’s head.

 

Ezor appears from behind the resistance fighter who’d released the beasts and brings her own weapons down. Keith takes a second worm, and he sees Acxa take out three more as she runs to him.

 

The worm venom coursing through his bloodstream has him shivering, teeth chattering as the blue quintessence augmented toxin’s shred his nerves and blood cells. He vaguely notices someone catch him.

 

The last thing he sees is a blood splattered Lotor leap from the ramparts like an avenging angel, plunge his blade into the adult’s eye and using it’s howl of pain as an opportunity to throw a proton grenade down it’s throat.


	10. Blood Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very dialogue heavy this chapter.

Keith awakens in the frigate’s med-bay, which is a surprise, he wasn’t expecting to awaken at all. “Ice worm venom is pretty toxic. That explains why everything hurts. So why am I alive?”

 

“Because you are a good soldier and Lotor doesn’t like wasting those if he can help it,” Acxa’s dry voice comes from somewhere to his right.

 

“I see, that explains here, still not the alive part, my bite wasn’t minor.”

 

She put down her tablet, likely filing a report, “and you made it worse by continuing to fight and keeping your blood up dumbass. Still you’re right, it wouldn’t have had the venom’s quintessence enhancement not proven to be a liability in this case. You weren’t kidding about violent reactions, you know you actually managed to charbroil another of the lesser worms when you passed out.”

 

“That’s…. new.”

 

“No reaction that violent?”

 

Keith shakes his head which hurts and makes bile rise in his throat.

 

“Interesting, now go back to sleep or I’ll sedate you.”

 

“Wait, just one thing.”

 

Acxa looks, briefly, like she was considering the sedative, she sighs and says “what?”

 

“Did Lotor really vault into the greater ice worm and drop a grenade down it’s throat?”

 

“Ugh, yes, the cocky bastard sprained his ankle coming down too! By the way you didn’t hear about that he’s unbelievably coy about this kind of thing.”

****

 

 

The next assignment was a free world in a nearby system that the rebels had been training with, already the campaign has become known as the Fall of Ten Worlds, _honestly?_ Keith can’t help think to himself. _Needlessly melodramatic much?_ _Two_ _of those worlds surrendered, the others were mostly uninhabited and will likely be used as research colonies._

 

Still it’s nice to know one’s reputation precedes them, there are a number of rumors flying about the vicious Blood Knight who wades through squadrons silently and mercilessly.

****

 

 

This one though, this one’s a campaign, a real fight where multiple dreadnoughts are brought in to assist, maybe if they had surrendered it wouldn’t have gotten this bad, unlikely given the quintessence rich atmosphere. Lotor says he thinks it exists on a nexus between our reality and the quintessence fields.

 

Whatever the reason it doesn’t matter what does matter is the fight. This world has shamans much like Tehuitlan, unlike those however these are potent. This world will almost certainly become the purview of one of the Druids.

 

Idly Keith wonders if his tutor will be here at the end, part of him does miss the creepy monster, no matter how revolting it’s presence is.

 

He dodges behind a building as a bolt of lightening shoots past, there’s a shaman now, angular tattoos decorate her violet face, her head is without hair and next to her is her guard. Most are clearly veterans, some are green, one doesn’t look more than five or six deca-phoebs older than his own sixteen years.

 

Using his pulse pistol he takes out one of the guards, a torrent of lightening rains down on where he was but he’s already rolling into his next piece of cover.

 

The group surrounds the shaman, good, Keith arms a grenade and tosses it, somersaulting forward to avoid both the explosion and return fire.

 

Four out of seven, not counting the shaman are dead, killed in the blast, the youngest is on the ground screaming at his mangled left leg. His purple skin shining with sweat and his pale hair dirty and disheveled. Keith shoots one of the bigger men who tries to help him. He retreats, the shaman’s energy shines apart now that she’s separated from her entourage.

 

Leaving the injured one in the dust he makes his way to a small overhang, sandwiched between the low ceiling and his cover he makes his way above the source of the energy. The shaman is panting and injured, Keith readies his dagger.

 

Dropping soundlessly behind her he drives it into her back, she screams and an elemental blast throws Keith backward into the wall as the forces of her magic tear her apart. The blade drops sizzling from where her body was.

 

Picking it up and sheathing it Keith makes a note to study it later.

 

Now to finish off the rest, he curses severely as he sees the screaming man isn’t where he left him. Instead there’s a trail of blood leading away from the fight, he charges after it but only finds a group leading injured to transport.

 

The transport escapes while he’s dealing with the guards, the sentries and a full blood lieutenant find him running the last of them through.

 

“Where were you idiots? A medical transport just escaped carrying many injured.”

 

“Injured? They are a lower priority than combatants.”

 

“Combatants?” Keith looks over at the man there were no enemies where they came from, “no, you were posturing, or hoping I’d get killed fighting their leader and her entourage.”

 

He walks up to the lieutenant and plunges his blade forward, singeing the lieutenant’s ear and destroying the sentry behind him.

 

“If any one of those injured crosses my path again lieutenant I will find you and I will give you the same injury they seek vengeance for.”

 

Then he turns from the shaking lieutenant and continues down the walk ways readying himself for more, the world has not yet fallen and he’s still surging with adrenaline.

****

 

 

“You did exceedingly well today Keith,” Lotor smiles down at his newest general, “with the fall of this latest planet the campaign is over.”

 

Keith nods, “pity though,” Lotor raises a brow, “beyond the shaman none of the world offered any real challenge, too focused on defense and evacuation.”

 

Zathrid looks up, “I guess all the good generals are gone, maybe we’ll get lucky and the resistance will manage to find themselves an Alfor or Allura then we can get back to the good ol days.”

 

She looks nostalgic, “ah to have been born in the early days of the Empire, those must have been some real fights, not crushing someone with overwhelming force.”

 

“What my concern is where was our Balor backup? We’re at the edge of Sendak’s official domain and the number of rebels here has me… Concerned,” Acxa cuts in.

 

Lotor frowns leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other, “Sendak has recently made several decisions that seem contrary. He hasn’t been seen outside his territory in deca-phoebs, often sending his sub-commanders and lieutenants.”

 

Ezor looks up, “he’s supposedly one of your dad’s faves too, so one has to wonder why he’s not in central.”

 

Keith looks up at this, “no he’s still in favor with Zarkon, one of the other commanders tried to seize some of his territory and was, rebuked. Which is to say moved to the fringes and the portion that border’s Sendak’s turf was given to Sendak as proof of his favor. Court was in an uproar for almost three phoebs straight.”

 

Lotor raises an eyebrow at this, “that says my father has him doing something significant under direct orders.”

 

Lotor looks over the assembled group, “I hear that Dorma is trying to strengthen alliances between Balor and Hazar.”

 

Keith looks at him eyes narrowed in suspicion, “yes...”

 

“Well you are coming on the heels of a major campaign, one in which you have been quite distinguished. In fact, I received word from Dorma, you were recently named Viscount of the Lexvala system. An early birthday present.”

 

Keith groans, “Emara’s going to stop at nothing to kill me now.”

 

“Ah yes, she has been courting Throk and several others including Sendak to try and make your return to the Empire a hostile one.”

 

Keith drags his hand slowly down his face, “well isn’t it convenient that you want someone to infiltrate one of those courts.”

 

Lotor waves his hand annoyed, “oh hardly, you would need to have a third party recommend you for the position for Sendak to accept you. Otherwise you’d just be my spy, you wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near his flagship.”

 

Acxa crosses her arms, “go on, say it, I know you know, and I know you that well.”

 

Lotor frowns, not pouts, no the prince is too refined for pouting.

 

(He’s pouting, all the generals are relishing in this, even Narti who’s looking through Kova.)

 

“Fine, I know you haven’t used your recommendation from your...” Lotor’s lip curls with distaste, “childhood instructor.”

 

And there it is, Prince Lotor, son of the “Living Ancestor” Emperor Zarkon, wants him to use his tutor’s recommendation, something he earned with literal blood, sweat, and tears. To infiltrate Sendak’s flagship.

 

“You owe me,” everyone looks at him, because even out here you don’t just say that kind of thing to **any** member of House Daibazaal.

 

Lotor looks amused by the challenge, “oh?”

 

“It doesn’t matter how interesting this is you are asking me to one,” he holds up a finger to emphasize his point, “use my only recommendation, hard earned, to infiltrate Sendak’s ship and court. Two, spend what will be at least phoebs in central, where my cousin would loathe to see me and is actively trying to get me killed. Three, not only spend time in central, but” he shudders, “socialize, in central. All of this so I can spend an unknown amount of time being Sendak’s whipping boy.”

 

Lotor opens his mouth and Keith glares harder, “Sendak hates half-blooded more than Throk, at least with Throk it’s just shortsighted jingoism and prejudice, Sendak sees us as an affront. And he acts on it.”

 

“Yes;” Lotor finally says, “I am asking you to do all of that.”

 

“You owe me for this, double if it turns out to be some crap assignment because daddy Zarkon’s feeling pissy with his right hand guy.”

 

Lotor seems, genuinely amused, smug bastard, “alright, I think I can agree to that.”

****

 

 

That is how it happened, how he ended up stuck at this party his grandam’s hosting with a bunch of Galra socialites.

 

After only three phoebs of prep-time, officially it’s a standard meet and greet, unofficially it’s a simultaneous celebration of his title, and birthday.

 

_Good Ancestors preserve me I’m a landed noble now, good bye sweet peace and quiet you will be missed._

 

Commanders from across the Empire, while no true members of the Imperial House are present, even Queen Merla has deigned to come, turns out this is just an excuse to drum up funding for her latest scheme.

 

Though for Merla to be here herself, “what is this project?”

 

Merla looks at him stunned she’s being accosted by what she had considered a half-breed servant, until she notices his general insignia and medals.

 

“Ah, you must be the little darling of the front, impressive how you took down those installations, how’d you find them anyway?”

 

Keith smiles, “tit for tat Merla, that’s how this goes.”

 

She actually seems to smile, “genuinely curious or spying for your House?”

 

“Can’t I be all of the above? Besides if you want our resources then you have to have guessed we would take an interest.”

 

“Blunt and to the point.”

 

“Can’t waste time with pettiness and politics on the front.”

 

“Alright, I’ll bite, we are trying to use quintessence powered prosthetic limbs to enhance our soldiers.”

 

“Ah, you’d need quintessence, subjects, and materials then yes?”

 

Merla smiles thinly, “tit for tat little Knight, or is it Viscount?”

 

“Tit for tat; I can sense quintessence fields.”

 

Merla clicks her tongue in annoyance, “that is a most unsatisfactorily brief answer.”

 

Keith is well aware of this.

 

He grabs a drink, Merla frowns, then dips a robotic claw into it, “poisoned love. Unless you doubt me?”

 

Keith ditches his drink, “no, it’s just the type of thing Emara or the others would do to show my return is not unnoticed.”

 

Merla hisses slightly, “such a waste, so many capable Galra are lost on these games, not to mention bloodline nonsense.”

 

Keith raises a brow, she scoffs, “I’m the head of one of the Inner Houses, not just a High House, you think I haven’t heard about Lotor’s generals, and you with your own abilities? Clearly genetic hybrids are exceedingly useful to the Empire and the Galra race as a whole. Just think if a full sized Galra had the ability to become invisible, or sense quintessence?”

 

“How about we cut this game Merla, your time and mine is valuable.”

 

Merla smiles, “oh? But aren’t things to be done a certain way?”

 

“As I said, time is a luxury on the front, I dislike wasting it.”

 

“Oh I do like you. Alright, I’ll bite, full exchange?”

 

“Yes, and while either Knight or Viscount would suffice, I prefer my given name, Keith.”

 

The two shake hands, which is slightly awkward, Merla’s mechanical enhancements make her taller than the average Galra, and Keith is shorter.

 

“Alright Keith, your ability.”

 

“If I have, caught the scent is I guess the easiest one to one phrase, I can track it across, theoretically the span of the Empire, but I haven’t attempted it with more than a quadrant. I need quintessence for larger attempts. What exactly is your project trying to achieve?”

 

Merla hums, clearly filing this information away, “we want to create prosthetic enhancements using the quintessence of an entire life, or perhaps multiple lives. Though results with just one are still trying to the recipient, our mortality rates are quite high.”

 

“Any ideas why?”

 

“Best we can come up with is willpower, particularly wrath and a drive to survive. Something about an imbalance between the limb and the host.”

 

“Have you tried using soldier volunteers? There is a great deal of that in the front.”

 

“Not for test subjects, I’d rather reserve those for when the process is unlikely to kill.”

 

Keith nods, “the arena then?”

 

“Waiting for clearance.”

 

Keith considers this a moment, “has her Grace suggested a reasonable deal?”

 

Merla smiles, “reasonable for who?”

 

“All parties involved of course, your project would stand to benefit the Empire as a whole, no one House or person is above that.”

 

Merla’s eyebrows shoot up at that, “you sound like someone I know.”

 

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

 

“I respect her so I’d say so.”

 

Keith nods satisfied, “I’ll add my own input to her Grace, it may not mean a great deal but.”

 

Merla looks over at Dorma’s frown, she’s clearly unhappy with the two conversing, which would probably be because Hazar and Drule are the two biggest rivals in the Empire, if only they weren’t.

 

“I think it would mean more than you consider Keith. If you do this then please, anything I can provide I will make effort to, within reason of course.”

 

“Any information you have on Sendak’s court would be appreciated.”

 

“I have a great nephew there, though he tells me little, why?”

 

“Circumstances require that I seek a placement there, if you can tell me whether I would be received by your nephew well.”

 

“He’s Noi Clare as much as Drule, I’m afraid he’s quite detached emotionally, so you’ll have to apply to his reason and logic.”

 

“I can do that.”

****

 

 

“What were you and Merla discussing?” Dorma is clearly fishing.

 

“She briefly explained her current project.”

 

“Yes, she’s made requests, slaves do not come cheaply, particularly not those drawn from POWs like she’s asking. Most of those end up in the Arena.”

 

“I think if we can make a suitable arrangement her project stands to benefit the Empire as a whole.”

 

“Truly?”

 

“Yes, further she’s pushing to use Arena slaves anyway so if they would end up with her, might as well get payment or an IOU from her.”

 

“I see, I will consider that, particularly in light of your displayed loyalty and pragmatism.

 

Keith offers a slightly sardonic smile “I’m glad you approve your Grace.”

 

“Now I have a special treat for next movement. An Arena trip.”

 

“I thought you hated the noise?”

  
“I do, but this isn’t about me, besides, I hear there’s a new rising star, defeated the old champion Myzax, according to the gossip.”

 

“Myzax? Bet the old man’s seething about that.”

 

“Oh it’s been an upset. So, would you like to attend?”

 

“Of course.”


	11. Sendak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah my friends we reach the end of this fic, but fear not, for this is certainly not the end of Darth Keith.

Standing behind and slightly left of his grandam in full armor like a silent statue, not in fact dissimilar to her own Zuijin standing as his mirror at her right.

 

She’d glanced at him curiously, until the whispers filtered in. Even in the crowded arena there’s a small empty bubble around Dorma and her warriors.

 

Not like there’s never space she’s in one of the seats of the noble box, right below the Imperial sky box. But with the two behind her it seems the other Galra refuse to even attempt encroaching on her personal space.

 

During his time on the front her grankit developed a reputation for silent, ruthless, efficiency. The rumors flying ranged from the mundane to the ridiculous. Apparently it had somehow come out that the Druids had some hand in his upbringing (or creation as some of the rumors went.)

 

Evidently her grankit also developed a reputation for having a temper, lashing out at other Galra in the chain of command for being too slow.

 

Or even, on one memorable occasion, killing one during the late campaign, apparently the fool had pulled a gun, payments from somewhere in her House were found in his accounts. The would be assassin only received her grankit’s blade as a reward for his troubles.

 

Even Zarkon heard about it, he’d been angry, more with the disruption of the front for politics than anything. Lotor had evidently found the whole thing funny which no doubt angered his father further.

 

Good to know her own House wasn’t the only one with it’s problems.

****

 

 

It soon became clear why Myzax’s defeat had been an upset. Champion as he’d heard both Arena slaves and guards refer to the man, isn’t even half-Galra, he’s a full blooded xenos.

 

He’s also graceful, his movements have the desperation of one trying to survive, not an easy feat when the Empire decided a Ythian packbeast is the most interesting thing for you to fight.

 

The man has been afforded a small amount of armor in the form of a helmet.

 

The beast swipes with it’s claws catching the champion with the edge of them. Then catches him with it’s tail knocking him into one of the pillars. His helmet, at least a size too big, comes off.

 

That’s when Keith understands his grandam’s gift, the man has short black hair, and pale pink skin, skin Keith himself is intimately familiar with. His heart, and time both seem to freeze for a single instant.

 

The Champion gets to his feet and dodges another strike, the beast sends his way, grabbing his sword, he’s studied the beasts movements even with his reckless strikes. Hamstringing the creature then using the momentum of it’s fall to help him cut it’s throat, a quick, clean, dare he even call it, merciful kill.

 

“I am tired and wish to return home,” her Grace’s voice comes from his side.

 

Keith nods, and assists her to her feet, escorting her from the Arena.

 

As they leave he asks if they can return, “I’m afraid I’m too busy to visit these tawdry spectacles, however, I have a season pass I never get to use so someone might as well use it. Of course as only a viscount the upper seating’s off limits.”

 

He smiles beneath his helmet.

****

 

 

That’s how it starts, how he ends up in the Arena every quintant the Champion is set to fight, and evidently quick merciful kills are his specialty because he does it whenever possible.

 

Always there’s a silent bubble of empty space around Keith no matter how crowded the Arena is.

 

Whenever the guards don’t intervene, because sometimes the fight drags on and his opponent ends up too injured. The guards step in because the fight’s over and he doesn’t get to finish his opponent. Those fights are disappointing, the Champion seems to try as hard as he can to win without unnecessary violence.

 

That being impossible, he goes in for the kill, he does not cripple or lame, the Champion has honor.

 

Keith knows those people will all be given to Drule for Merla’s newest little project. Taken to make enhanced limbs from.

 

Idly Keith wonders if he’ll go in for it once it’s perfected, perhaps having an internal quintessence supply to draw on will make his tracking abilities even better. A concept he finds himself strangely attracted to.

 

This also begins something else, Keith sneaking down to the Arena holding pens overcome by curiosity, the Champion fights with ferocity and honor, sure he’s killed Galra in the arena but most of those are disgraced generals and criminals who are just as eager for the human’s blood.

 

Keith, the Blood Knight, Bane of Ulippa, he knows his Galra half, he knows it well, he knows nearly nothing about his father species.

****

 

 

Their first meeting is insufferably short, he simply wanted to get a closer look at the Champion, evidently his reputation precedes him even here because an assassin hidden among the prisoners attempts to kill him.

 

He lets the swing go too wide then side steps and activates his sword swinging in the same movement the assassin uses to steady themselves. The smell of seared meat fills the area as the top half of the killer separates from the bottom half.

 

He looks at the corpse, a purple and brown skinned native of some distant system, maybe an assassin from his House, maybe a captured soldier from the campaign.

 

The Champion looks at him for the first time, the two merely acknowledging each other’s presence before Keith turns around and stalks out of the Arena.

****

 

 

Shiro has seen the armored figure in the stands a few more times, he’d admit that he was surprised, normally he’s the target post game, that an assassin would strike at one of the Galra has him curious.

 

Though, is that one a Galra? They dispatched their attacker with the efficiency of a trained killer but they’re so small. Every Galra Shiro’s seen or faced has been significantly taller than him. The Knight is shorter, and even beneath the armor he can tell the other is slighter in build too.

 

The fact that this person is Galra becomes clear when he asks one of his fellow prisoners about it. They direct him to a former resistance fighter that was captured recently.

 

“Oh yeah, that one, the so called _Blood Knight,_ ” the title is said with both venom and fear, like saying it will summon the masked stranger.

 

“They first showed up in the Ulippa system as far as we know, I heard they’d tortured one of ours for the pleasure of it. Or what we thought was pleasure, until they descended upon Ulippa with fury among Lotor and his generals. That one’s a killer, I did see their abilities myself, they’re completely silent on the field, taking out everyone that they find. And they find everyone, I don’t know how, but they just know where people are hiding or running to.”

 

Another prisoner shudders, “I was hiding, along with several others, we’d been overlooked by the lieutenant that was in charge of cleansing that area. The Knight though? They stood there silent for a few moments then exposed all of us, had us rounded up. Some fought, those who did died.”

 

“Someone among the prisoners tried to assassinate the Knight, they didn’t flinch, just killed the attacker.”

 

“I’ve heard those who surrender to Lotor are treated fairly,” another prisoner cuts in.

 

“Our leader was too prideful to do it, so the generals came down. You know the Knight has some kind of custom fighter, it’s faster and more maneuverable than the ones the Empire normally uses. I got into a dogfight with them. Single pilot, against five of us, three when they got two of my mates to shoot each other down. Didn’t waste time on the rest of us, I ejected got a jet pack assisted view of some kind of major firepower on that fighter taking down our command center’s shield generator.”

 

“You said you’ve seen the Knight right?” Shiro asks the first prisoner, “did anything strike you as odd?”

 

“You mean the size right?”

 

Shiro nods, the prisoner shrugs “I heard the guards talking, and I heard rumors on the front, Lotor’s generals are all half-Galra. The guards and commanders here hate it.”

****

 

 

When the Knight returns Shiro considers all he knows, the Knight has conquered planets for the Galra, or helped, been promoted many times. Probably only half-Galra, he does listen to the guards, anytime the Knight’s a subject of discussion they use a Galran word to describe them. The word is clearly not meant with respect, but there’s fear at the heart of that disrespect.

 

Still the Knight returns, this time to Shiro’s cell, “tell me about your world.”

  
Of all the things that could have been asked that was probably the last thing Shiro had been expecting. Then he realizes that this person’s from the front, the conquerors of the Galra, those who break resistance over their knees.

 

He remains silent.

 

The Knight departs.

 

It goes like that for an unknown amount of time, the matches aren’t consistent. Shiro’s tried to escape twice in the amount of time the Knight returns.

 

Each time they do they ask a question.

 

“I know your planet, Earth, has deserts, vast tracks of dry arid land, I know it has snow. There are worlds with both, but many are harsh and inhospitable. Earth is different though right?”

 

“How many people are on it?”

 

“Earth has jungles correct?”

 

“Are Earth cities different from Galra cities? What are they like?”

 

“What is the atmosphere like?”

 

“How do humans organize themselves?”

 

“What are human dwellings like?”

 

“What is human food like?”

 

Always a question about Earth, sometimes about the people, sometimes about the environment, sometimes about the animals.

 

Every time Shiro remains silent, every time the Knight leaves.

 

“I could find your friends, those you got taken with, maybe protect them, all you need to do is assist me.”

 

Shiro remains silent.

 

The Knight snarls, “I could drag your little friend back here, force them into the Arena, your work will be for nothing.”

 

He’s heard about the Knight’s temper from the guards.

 

The last time the Knight returns he’s just been stabilized, his leg severely broken and he’d gone into shock. This was his last fight, even with the Galra’s clearly advanced technology it would take him too long to heal, he’s useless as a fighter so this is the end, put down like a lame horse.

 

The Knight returns, “an excellent fight champion, your opponent tried to break you with this, you simply broke him instead.”

 

The Knight almost sounds proud, preening a little bit even. Probably won money or something. It sounds out of character but he doesn’t know the Knight, not really.

 

“Still nothing? tsk” the Knight is annoyed, angry even he turns to leave.

 

“Why?”

 

The Knight stops, “so now you speak? At the eleventh hour?”

 

There’s a metallic sigh modulated by the Knight’s helmet Shiro actually smiles a bit, it sounds like an annoyed teenager. “Tell me your name Champion and I will answer.”

 

“What?”

 

“Your name, Champion is a title, not a name, a designation, like General, Viscount, or Blood Knight,” there’s clearly a rueful smile behind that impassive helmet. “I want to know who you are.”

 

“I- it’s Takashi, Takashi Shirogane.” Shiro is reserved for his friends, for people like him, not monsters that make him fight.

 

“I am Keith Kogane of House Hazar, and my reason is simple, curiosity. I have not seen the world of my birth in a long time.”

 

Shiro’s stunned before he can recover and give voice to any of the now hundreds of questions spinning through his head the Knight opens a display on his arm. “Pity you have been sold to the Drule and Druids. I pray that you are given the mercy of a swift death, either way this is the last time we shall meet.”

 

The Knight leaves, and he’s right it’s for the last time, because the next time two silent robed figures come to take him.

****

 

 

“Sendak? Really?” Keith has been expecting this, Dorma’s incredulity.

 

“You have been trying to secure ties to Balor, it’s why uncle is with Prorok. This would further that, I have already spoken to Samael, and Merla has sent word to her great nephew in Sendak’s court. Further he’s the head of his house, and Zarkon’s right hand as much as the witch.”

 

“Sendak also hates half-blooded, you will not be treated with respect, not the respect you are due.”

 

“My comfort does not matter in the face of a coup for house and Empire.”

 

Dorma nods, proud? His grandam’s often hard to read, especially in negotiations.

 

“Alright, though I am dubious about this.”

 

“If I strengthen these ties it will also cut one of Emara’s chief Imperial allies.”

 

Dorma smiles, “ah; that is true.”

 

He doesn’t mention his true purpose, whatever Lotor’s planning is big and far reaching, so there’s little room for error.

 

Keith has seen the methods of the Prince, their efficiency, and success rate. Based on his great grandsire’s notes, his uncle and his talks, and his own observations he’s long suspected that Zarkon is insane by any rational standards. That after ten thousand deca-phoebs he can’t truly be considered a Galra and that he is incapable of seeing himself as the same species as his subjects.

 

A disturbing notion, one he suspects Lotor shares, something he knows Acxa suspects as well. However that would still be treason.

 

Better to play his part and keep his options open, if Lotor succeeds there will be a great power vacuum, one countless warlords will try and fill. He’s not stupid, the Empire will never accept a half-blooded emperor. Lotor must know this too, but what his final plans are cannot be guessed at.

 

“I will invite him here.”

 

“Will he come?”

 

“Hazar honors our laws and customs, I make sure of this, I punish lapses harshly, Sendak will come because the laws of hospitality ensure his safety and my discretion.”

 

Keith bows and departs.

****  


 

It’s a full movement before Sendak arrives, “what is so urgent it requires my immediate attention.”

 

“You already know Sendak, I am aware both Merla and the Druid have sent their recommendations.”

 

“Merla can be bribed.”

 

“Not the Druid though.”

 

The Knight, who had been a silent masked statue speaks up, “and you are looking to make use of Merla’s project correct? Would it not be better for her to owe you in some capacity?”

 

“You speak when spoken to half-breed, I am Zarkon’s right hand, do you think I would be denied?”

 

“If you were to stymie her then yes, she’s quite involved with the Witch.”

 

The modulated voice is off putting, it’s clear to see the Druids had a hand in this one, even if it was merely his training.

 

“Why are you so eager to be a member of my court? Or should I ask why Lotor is so eager?”

 

The Knight is impassive, “her Grace,” he nods to her as she is being referenced, meaning he knows and adheres to his House’s codes of etiquette and honor, “desires closer ties between our Houses, this seemed the best way to facilitate that.”

 

“Marriage does that just as well.”

 

“That isn’t a decision I will make before I spend time among the House in question.”

 

So Lotor isn’t the only reason, the boy is allowed to pick his own betrothals, unsurprising, Sendak realizes, he’s been distinguished on the front. He’s also a noble with near full rights, this means that it would be seen as proper for him to make that choice himself.

 

Sendak can feel his bloodcurse rising, but he’s no Mogor, he keeps it reigned in. A genetically whole Galra, not a half-breed should he marry a full blooded. He doesn’t have a trace of bloodcurse, it’s why so many have applied for his contract.

 

He’d be lying if the thought of cleansing his House of it’s genetic taints wasn’t an extremely useful prospect.

 

“I will accept you on one condition,” perhaps he can test the cub, if the cub fails and dies then he will not have to consider this problem. If he succeeds then he’s removed one thorn in his territory, even if it means at least a deca-phoeb indulging a half-breed.

 

“Several Galra cargo transports have gone dark in this section of space. They are found stripped, but with no signs of struggle or a fight.”

 

The Knight looks over this evidence, “I find the cause and report back correct?”

 

It would be an insult to say find and stop since he wont allow any resources beyond what the boy has to enter the fight.

 

“Correct,” he grits out.

****

 

 

It took two full quintants of just reviewing the data, the targets seem picked at random, they go dark, the crew is found dead or deactivated in the case of sentries, and the cargo stripped. He realizes, thanks to his uncle going out of his way to teach him star charts and flight maps. There’s a small point where a nearby binary star system’s orbit causes magnetic interference.

 

That orbit will cause a transport’s comms to go dark for long enough that a precisely timed strike would be very doable. This has resistance written all over it.

 

Still he hopes not, he has yet to fight one of the enigmatic Galra rebels Lotor suspects lurk within the Empire. The thought of them being behind this is nothing short of exhilarating.

 

The ship that he suspects is the latest target is sitting dead in space, with a resistance ship docked to it, his instruments can’t tell him if there are any others nearby outside of visual. But their’s are just as dead until the orbit passes.

 

He docks with the cargo ship and breaches the secondary access hatch.

 

Life support was shut down remotely, distantly he suspects that the sentries were done in the same way. Shut down life support, flood the ship with carbon monoxide, strip it in hazard suits, it’s clever. He notices two resistance, a yellow skinned alien speaking over a short wave radio, and a partner on guard. If the radiation requires them to rely on such primitive technology he should be able to listen in.

 

“Alright, there should be quintessence and medical supplies in the next bay over.”

 

Keith pulls out his knife, and decides that such an elegant plan as the rebels have come up with requires the flattery of imitation. He activates a short range jamming device that will briefly fill the channels with static.

 

Throwing his knife and activating his main blade he fells the two quickly, easily, and most important quietly.

 

He looks over the manifest to determine where the raiding party is going, the main group is heading towards the main storage bay, there’s a second group going to maintenance, likely to strip useful parts.

 

Main team first.

 

The challenge is separating them, once the first couple are done they start to get suspicious, he seals the bulkheads. This is where it gets interesting.

****

 

 

“Te-Osh can you raise our scouts?”

 

Te-Osh looks at her charge one of their newest fighters, rescued from a Hazar slave transport coming out of the Arena.

 

“No I can’t, it’s made me concerned.”

 

“I can go check it out if you want?”

 

She doesn’t want, not really, she’s learned to trust her instincts, after the fall of Ulippa and the nearby bases her instincts are the reason she’s still alive. But it’s her best shot at wrapping this up before their time is up and the stars leave orbit.

 

She looks over to Matt. The plan had mostly been his brain-child so he likely wants to see it through. He’s the one who hacked the ship’s systems, and managed to bring down the sentries.

 

“All right, but if I tell you to clear out you do it alright?”

 

Matt nods, “I’ll get the others and be right back, they probably just tripped a security measure.”

****

 

 

He feels the security theory is right when he comes to his first sealed bulkhead, one he has to manually override. “Engineering is not my strong suit, I’m a comms expert,” he mutters to himself while he works.

 

“I’m in,” he crows with triumph, he’s eager to find out what’s going on. First bet is to meet up with the communications team on the bridge with the manifest.

 

The captain’s corpse is slumped on the ground near the door, trying to escape, death is a sight he’s only just started getting used to. He’s not sure how he feels about that.

 

The problem is the captain and sentries aren’t the only bodies he realizes, the comm team is dead.

 

“Te-Osh I found our communications team, they’re gone.”

 

He can hear Te-Osh’s breath hitch, “how?”

 

“Looks like a bladed weapon of some sort, or that’s what I would say but the wound’s been cauterized… Do they even give sentries blades? Te-Osh?”

 

“Get out of there now!”

  
“What’s wrong?”

 

Then her voice rings out over the whole channel, “everyone still alive return to ship, now!”

 

“Te-Osh what’s going on?”

 

“It’s the Bane of Ulippa, the Blood Knight is here.”

****

 

 

Keith curses slightly when the announcement goes up. The rebels beneath him jolting with surprise, the final five of the group has been moving towards the bulkhead by their ship clearly trying to avoid any more people going dark.

 

Keith throws a wrench and draws their attention away. “Was that them? The resistance said they died on Ulippa! No one said anything about fighting an immortal assassin.”

 

“Shut up, they probably just got lucky.”

 

“From an ice worm bite to their squishy bits?”

 

“Maybe it’s a title, and another just takes it.”

 

“No way man, I hear whoever it is they’re tiny, no way the Galra’s gonna let non-Galra race have more than one of their group. I’m telling you it’s a demon, like you know they have those freaky Druid guys right? Well I bet they captured some really nasty soul and stuck it in some advanced mech-armor, we cut off the head and I’m telling you there’s just gonna be dust and circuits in there.”

 

Keith chuckles darkly, this is the first time he’s been able to enjoy the rumors flying about him. He readies himself to strike as soon as they are in position…

****

 

 

Matt finds the main squad, “guys, you get Te-Osh’s message? She’s pretty freaked out.”

 

That’s when several things happen at once, a figure in red armor drops behind Weil their rifleman and Matt doesn’t have time to register what happened, only that Weil goes down. The figure has another blade, one that almost seems to appear from nowhere it impales Faulk.

 

“BEHIND YOU!” he yells. The masked face looks up at him and it almost seems startled.

****

 

 

 _Takashi’s companion? Here with the rebels? How? Hazar should have been informed if he’d escaped._ Keith almost gets caught by the larger man with the a power tool being used as an improvised weapon.

 

“Tch,” distraction is death on the battlefield and it was almost his, he activates his thermal blade and opens one of the exhaust pipes the toxic gas spraying the larger man’s eyes.

 

Then it occurs to him, he doesn’t need Takashi anymore, not when another option has fallen so neatly into his lap.

****

 

 

 

Matt watches as the armored figure blinds Maik, he draws his own quarter staff and moves in. The figure dances backward deflecting his strikes. The figure is silent, and agile, responding with strikes of his own.

 

None of them lethal though, he saw the Knight attack the others they didn’t hesitate to kill. Why not try now, “what am I not interesting enough to kill?”

  
He’s heard the stories, the silent monster, one who should have died on Ulippa, one who was present during the rest of the Empire’s purge of that section of space.

 

He’s… shorter than Matt was expecting, short for a Galra for certain, maybe shorter than him? The armor and constant movement make it difficult to gauge.

 

“Tell me of Earth,” the voice is modulated and robotic, “I want to hear of Earth.”

 

That is somehow more unsettling than the total silence he had fought in until now.

 

How did this person know about Earth? Had Earth been invaded? As far as he knew the Empire was oblivious to Earth’s existence. How outdated was his information?

 

“You may live, if you tell me of Earth.”

 

“No way creep.”

 

The figure knocks his quarter staff away and punches Matt in the throat before he can bring the weapon around again.

 

He realizes the Knight might just be willing to kill him now, that is until Maik comes up behind him. The bastard’s instincts are uncanny because the knife strike that had been aimed at Matt is drawn over Maik’s belly.

 

Okay, asphyxiation is a far cry from disembowelment, Matt realizes he’s not near close to used to the sight of death.

  
The Knight is though, the Knight lives it, he kicks Maik away from him and readies himself again.

 

Shots ring out, the beta team is with Te-Osh and she’s got Weil’s rifle. The Knight brings up an energy shield and ducks into a side room.

 

“MATT GET OVER HERE!” She screams at him.

 

They escape, sealing the ship behind them and preparing to fly.

 

He notices it, the Knight steps out of cover and watches them go, the body language screams an almost juvenile sense of disappointment.

****

 

 

Salk is having a very bad day, he’d managed to report the break in of the Hazar slave transport to Beta Traz hoping the favor the warden owes him would get them restocked before Dorma noticed.

 

Dorma not only knows now but the quiznaking Blood Knight was the one sent to follow up.

  
“You didn’t report the rebel’s raid why?”

 

Quiznak this, the Blood Knight’s a half-breed, and a runt, he doesn’t have to take this. “Unless her Grace has deemed to give you any real authority I-”

 

He’s cut off by the hilt of the Knight’s blade meeting his gut, once he’s doubled over a gauntlet grabs his throat and cuts off his air. “I’m sorry I must have misheard, I thought you were about to try and stonewall a viscount of House Hazar.”

 

Then as if this day isn’t getting worse, Thace enters, because yeah, Dorma’s clearly behind this if her spawn is here.

 

Thace seems genuinely disturbed by the Knight’s actions at least, so maybe his death isn’t quite forgone yet. “K- ahem, Viscount, what are you doing?”

 

“Reminding lieutenant Salk the importance of being helpful over being a nuisance.”

 

“Her Grace hasn’t ordered his execution,” Thace is, what in the void? Thace is pleading with a half-breed to let him go. The rumors he heard were true the tiny half-blood is insane.

 

There’s a sigh, “true, tell me what you found and he can breathe again.”

 

“He tried to recoup the losses through the Empire’s prison network, already forged blank prisoner documents.”

 

The Knight releases him and he inhales oxygen happily, “pity the rebels are already making use of the slaves you allowed to escape.”

 

He turns to Thace, “I am expected on Sendak’s flagship by the end of the movement, please see to it that her Grace is informed and this… dreg, is appropriately reassigned.”

 

Oh the sound of the word ‘reassigned’ makes Salk want the gauntlet on his throat back.

 

His silent begging to Thace is ignored because, the Hazar scion is shooting a worried look at the Knight’s retreating back.

****

 

 

“You did an adequate job with those rebels Knight.” It’s how Sendak greets him, he doesn’t care.

 

“It was a failure, five rebels escaped, only nine were killed.”

 

“Oh?” Sendak raises an eyebrow.

 

“Victory or death, I will find them, I will crush them.”

 

Sendak nods in approval, it’s minute, but it’s there, “after your time with us is finished.”

 

He salutes, “yes commander Sendak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rise of the Blood Knight Sound track
> 
> Childhood’s End: Licht und schatten, Yutaka Yamada
> 
> Enter Dorma: Phendrana Drifts, Metroid Prime ost
> 
> House Hazar: Yami Kara No Mezamase
> 
> Hidden Threats: Torvus Bog Subterranean, Metroid Prime Echoes ost
> 
> Enter Thace: Blue Royal Palace, Tales of the Abyss ost
> 
> New Everyday: Fire Temple, Ocarina of Time ost
> 
> Enter Samael: Phazon Radiation, Metroid Prime ost
> 
> Coming of Age: Sanctuary Fortress, Metroid Prime Echoes ost
> 
> Ancient Tutelage: Luminoth Energy Controller, Metroid Prime Echoes ost
> 
> Assassin: I am the Program, Mega Drive
> 
> Enter Emara: Brinestar Underground Depths Theme, Super Metroid ost 
> 
> Exiled Again: Dust of the Saturn, Dynatron
> 
> Prince Lotor: Theme of Lotor
> 
> Generals of the Prince: Phazon Mines, Metroid Prime ost
> 
> Fall of Ten Worlds: Sauron’s March, Howard Shore
> 
> Hazar Viscount: Nightmare, Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop ost
> 
> The Champion: Guts Theme, Susumu Hirasawa
> 
> Blood Knight’s Honor: Magmoor Caverns, Metroid Prime ost
> 
> Sendak: Temple Grounds Theme, Metroid Prime Echoes ost


End file.
